


More than I Love Life Itself

by Lady_Ganesh



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Future Fic, Kid Fic, M/M, Pining, choreography
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:27:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 35,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28410132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Ganesh/pseuds/Lady_Ganesh
Summary: Yuri travels to Almaty to help Otabek (and his kids) after an injury. Things get complicated after that.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Leo de la Iglesia/Ji Guang-Hong, Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, Past Otabek Altin/OMC
Comments: 18
Kudos: 87





	1. Between You and Me, I Could Almost Have Said that Things Can Only Get Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri helps out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is actually, I swear, complete (though I might add an epilogue). I'm going to post a chapter every couple of days, in part just so I can give everything a careful second look before it goes live ~~and also in case any keen-eyed readers see a problem, so if you see anything please sing out in comments thanks~~.

Leo sent the email on a Tuesday morning, and Yuri re-read it a few times before it really sunk in. He'd known about Otabek's marriage falling apart; fucking everyone had, with the weird blog post his ex had posted about being swept away by unexpected love. That got followed by the rumors that the asshole had left Otabek for some actor who, after all the drama, didn’t seem to have been interested at all. Now Nurdaulet Bekmambetov was the laughingstock of the Internet, and Otabek's name kept coming up either as a poor sucker who didn't know what hit him or a guy who was lucky to be out of it before the guy went completely over the edge. Sometimes both.

Yuri hadn't known what to say, so he hadn't said anything.

But Leo had, had always been the one who reached out, who spoke first. Leo had a lot to say now. _He's skating again,_ Leo had written, and something stuck in Yuri's throat. Having Beks skate again—

Wasn’t why Leo had emailed, not really. Leo had emailed about the fall that had happened earlier that week, and the concussion that followed. _He's afraid he's not going to be safe with the kids. He talked about giving up custody for a while, but Nurdauet has a book tour coming up and it’ll be pretty disruptive for them. I talked him into letting people stay with him instead. Mostly his family can do it, but I told him I could help, too. I thought you might be able to take a week or two in the off-season, especially if you're doing Phichit's show in May._

Yuri was doing the show. And he missed Otabek. And he still thought he was Otabek's friend, even if they weren't talking much any more.

But Otabek was a father now. Two kids. They were in preschool, maybe? The most Yuri ever dealt with kids was when he worked with the juniors or if the Tiny Tots took too damn long getting off the ice. Having Otabek around would help, probably, but he barely knew Otabek as a father. It'd been years since they really talked. He missed Otabek, but how much was he missing who they used to be? The late-night conversations they used to have wouldn't happen any more. They were both too old for that shit.  
It wasn't really a question in the end, though. If Otabek needed someone to watch his kids, then that's what Yuri was going to do. He would've done a hell of a lot more than that for Otabek. Otabek had always been willing to do whatever it took for him, after all.

 _What do I actually have to do? I'm not that great with kids._ There were the triplets, but they didn't count, not really, because Yuuko or Nishigori had always really been in charge of them, as much as anyone could control those three, and they were teenagers now.

_Just what Otabek tells you. Make sure they go to preschool and kindergarten, classes, that kind of stuff. He's not supposed to drive. He says he can mostly keep track of their schedules, his big worry is that he'll get a migraine and not think quickly enough if something goes wrong. He gets tired more quickly and has to rest a lot._

_Okay,_ he wrote back. _So the week after Phichit's show?_

_Yeah. Maybe two weeks, depending on what's going on. I don't know for sure yet. He doesn't trust Nurdaulet, and I don't either._

_I'll check with Lilia and Yakov but I think I can do that._ Even as he wrote it, he knew he'd beg them for two weeks. _We can get ice time?_

_Yeah, they'll clear the place out if Beka asks. Might have to share once in a while, that’s all._

Of course they’d do anything for the Hero of Kazakhstan. _Tell him I'll do whatever I can._

_I figured you would. Thanks._

Yuuko told him _You're good with kids, you'll be fine._

Why the fuck did she think he was good with kids? _Okay, but what do I actually do?_

_Stick to their routine as much as you can. They're probably still pretty shaken from their other father moving out, so they might act out. But I bet Otabek's a good dad. So they'll want to help him too. Kids love to help, even if they don't really understand what's happening. If you give them things to do that they can actually do, like sorting laundry, they'll get into it. For a while anyway. ;-)_

_Thanks._

_They'll love you. Don't worry._

"I expect video every day," Yakov said.

"Of course," he said, rolling his eyes, but he was grateful.

The old man and Katsudon gave him a new suitcase, which he didn't actually fucking need, and an insane amount of Japanese and Russian shit for the kids, enough to fill the suitcase, so maybe he needed it after all. Mila gave him a parenting book her sister swore by when her own kids were in elementary school. Georgi gave him a parenting book _he'd_ sworn by, and Sergei the rink manager told him stories about his own kids doing hilariously stupid shit that Yuri was pretty sure was supposed to reassure him, though it kind of scared him when he thought about having to pick up a kid from preschool after they'd cut their classmate's hair off and glued it to their Barbie dolls.

At Leo’s suggestion, he started Skyping with Otabek and both the kids, once a day or so. It looked like Otabek was wearing his glasses full-time. Probably the concussion made contacts even more of a pain in the ass than normal. It made Otabek look older and seem even more unfamiliar. Still hot, though. Still really damn hot.

The kids looked like Otabek. In motion they were jarring, tiny, busy people with Otabek’s body language and pretty dark eyes.

They didn't say much, and they got bored quickly, but Leo was probably right that they needed to get used to his face and voice. They mostly all stared at each other and mumbled until Otabek suggested, "Why don't you teach Yuri some Kazakh words? He doesn't know many, except for words for food." This resulted in a parade of stuffed animals, household objects, and once—memorably—the neighbor's cat being held up in front of the webcam.

Yuri introduced them to Potya after that, who was just as unimpressed by Otabek's kids on the other side of the webcam as he'd always been by Otabek himself, but the kids loved him. "We can't have a cat," Otabek said, sounding very tired. "It's not in the lease."

"It's not fair," Varida said. "Mrs. Kim has a cat."

"She lives next door," Otabek said. "She has a different landlord."

"We should live next door," Kasym said.

"We have a very nice apartment, and we're not moving." The argument had clearly happened many times. "Your grandparents have a cat, and Mrs. Kim’s cat loves you. You don't need a cat here."

"Cats are pretty great," Yuri said, and Otabek glared at him like he was a traitor.

They’d opened up more after that, talking a little about kids at school and a lot about whatever TV or movie they’d just watched. Yuri mostly nodded and hoped no one was expecting him to memorize it all.

The ice show was good. He was working on a new EX, a little looser than the last one, a little easier on his body. It was starting to matter now. Yuri hated it, but he knew he'd rather keep skating than anything else, so he had to stretch out his time as long as it lasted.

Phichit was always glad to see him, for reasons Yuri had never really figured out. It wasn't that he acted like they were closer friends than they were, he was just—Phichit. sually positive, always friendly. His twins were around Kasym’s age; the baby was tiny, loud, drooling on everything in sight. All together, they were kind of terrifying. Yuri didn't know what to say to them or how to react to them, and at one point someone threw the baby into his arms and he had to hold her and hope she wouldn't break. Victor scooped her out of his arms, and Yuri couldn't hide his relief.

"Otabek only has two," Victor said. "It won't be so bad."

Yuri almost said _I'll be fine,_ but he was tired and his defenses were down. "I don't even know what to do with them," Yuri said. "I've forgotten most of the Kazakh I knew."

"Just do what Otabek tells you. I know that'll be new for you, but I'm sure you'll get the hang of it."

"Funny," Yuri said.

Phichit swung by. "You okay?" he asked Victor. "I swear I left her with Mila."

"You did," Yuri said. "She pawned her off on me."

"Oh, you're practicing!" Phichit grinned. "That's cool."

"Bek's kids are older," Yuri said. "Thank fuck."

"Don't swear in front of the kids," Phichit said. "There's your first piece of advice."

"Oh, sh—right. Sure." Shit. He shouldn't have agreed to this. He was a bad influence. He didn't have the patience.

"You're going to be fine," Victor said. "They have to learn those words someday."

"Very fucking funny," Yuri said, and then realized what he'd said.

Phichit laughed and took the girl from Victor. "Ah, she's too young to know what you're saying, anyway. Otabek's kids, you gotta be more careful with. They've probably heard it at school, but you don't want to get the blame."

"Avoiding blame is half of Phichit's parenting strategy," Victor said.

Phichit patted the baby on the back. "Damn right. The other half is changing diapers, which...I'm gonna go do that. I'll be back."

"They're toilet trained, right?" Victor asked in his wake.

"Yeah," Yuri said. “I think.”

"When I was seventeen, I lived with my sister for six months," Victor said.

Yuri had never heard this story before.

"She had kids. They were...I guess the youngest was a little older than Phichit's twins are now. And the older two were in school. I was winning a lot by then, and she supported me, but—it was hard for her. I guess I wasn't always easy, either. I had to babysit when she was stuck at work, and...I didn't want kids of my own after that. Still don't. But diapers were the worst."

"You don't talk about her."

"There was an accident," Victor said. "I...lost her a long time ago, and her ex didn't like me. I send them a card at the New Year."

That took a fucking dark turn. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right," Victor said, plastering on a smile. "It gets easier. And I've got family, now."

That was true; the Katsukis seemed as thrilled to have Victor in the family as they always had, and Mari had adopted a boy last year.

Yuri had always assumed he wouldn’t have kids. It wasn't like he'd had a happy childhood to feel great about. Otabek had talked about his family all the time, and they were obviously close, even as most of them lived halfway around the world. It had felt like it did when he was in Hatsetsu; not real. Something that happened to other people.  
He and Otabek had never dated, so they'd never broken up. They'd been friends, and then they'd been getting closer, staying up too late talking, hanging out all the time in the off-season. Yuri had started wondering, hoping maybe, that something more was going to happen. He'd found himself thinking about what living in Almaty would be like.

But it had been a someday, far off. Otabek hadn't wanted a _someday._

Part of him had been relieved when Otabek started dating. He’d been supportive when things started getting serious with Nurdaulet. He hadn't liked the guy, but he'd figured he wouldn't like anyone Otabek got serious with. He could only lie to himself so much. Nurdaulet had been a writer, and there were a lot of articles about two of Kazakhstan's artistic greats meeting. It had made Yuri wonder would have happened if he _had_ dated Otabek. Maybe the Hero of Kazakhstan wouldn't have been seen as patriotic enough.

Not that any of that mattered now.

He grabbed another beer. Yuuri was pacing himself tonight, maybe because of the kids being around. "Yuuko-chan said she'd talked to you."

"Yeah?" Yuuko-chan talked too fucking much, but he guessed that he should've expected it. Though Yuuri could go months without saying much of anything to anyone but Victor.

"She said she made you promise to call her if you needed to."

"We'll be fine," Yuri said. "Leo says it's pretty straightforward, and his mom and one of his are around." Leo had clearly loved taking care of the kids, like it was some summer camp he'd wished he'd had when he was little or something. He'd sent Yuri a long email with tips that he didn't think Otabek's mother would pass on. _It's different for her, she's their grandma. They'll always listen to her._ He'd also given Yuri a rundown of where the good coffee shops were, how to butter up the rink manager, and which kid was more likely to wake up screaming in the middle of the night (Varida).

Leo was a good friend. He'd known Otabek longer, spent more time with him. He'd managed to stay in touch longer. When the fall had happened, Leo was the one who'd gotten the call. Not Yuri. That had meant something, and Yuri hated it, and hated it more because he didn't know _what_ it meant.

"You're all right?" Yuuri asked.

"Yeah."

"I never liked him," Yuuri continued. "Nurdaulet. He talked about himself so much."

"I fucking hated him."

Yuuri looked at him like _of course you hated him, you idiot._

"I tried," Yuri protested. "He was happy. I wanted him to be happy."

"I know," Yuuri said, and Yuri wanted to smack him for the fucking pity.

For all they’d Skyped, the familiarity of the webcam didn’t seem to translate to trust when the cab dropped him off at Otabek’s apartment.

Kasym hid behind his sister, but Varida stared at him with what he'd half come to think of as the Altin stare (Otabek’s older sister and Mama had it too, and it was terrifying).

 _"So,"_ he said, in Kazakh that probably would've embarrassed a third-grader. _"Which of you is going to show me my room?"_

They looked at each other, both of them trying to muster up the necessary courage. Finally, the girl spoke. "I will," she said, and he had to hurry to catch up with her.

The apartment was big, taking up one whole floor of the building. Each of the kids had a small bedroom, with the master bed and bath at the end of the hall. The guest room was closer to the kitchen. Yuri supposed that would make it easy to catch the kids if they wanted to sneak down the hall in the middle of the night.

Shit. He wasn't ready for this.

Varida left him alone in the guest room to unpack, which mostly meant shoving his suitcases in the right position rather than taking anything out, and he wandered back toward the kids' room. As Yuri would have guessed, there were a ton of books in the house, in Kazkakh and Russian; even a few in English and what must have been Korean. He recognized some from his own childhood. He was flipping through one he didn't recognize with frogs on the cover when Kasym came in. He looked at Yuri for a second, then trotted over to the books and grabbed another one Yuri had been looking at. "Read?" he asked, and then corrected himself. "Read, please?"

It was in Russian, so Yuri took it from Kasym’s hand and settled a little more carefully on the floor; his knees weren't as flexible as they once had been. "You like this one?"

Kasym nodded.

"I haven't read it before. You'll have to help me if I get stuck, okay?"

He nodded again. Shit, he was kind of cute. The book was cute, too, a silly thing about a little mouse who got in trouble at school because she didn't want to put away her new purse. Then it was a story about a unicorn, and then an old one Yuri remembered growing up with, about a cat. Then Kasym dragged over one in English. "I don't think I read English well enough, kiddo. Especially for one that doesn't have pictures." It said something about not having pictures on the cover. Shit, he'd been better at English when that American girl had been training at the rink.

"I'll read you that one," Otabek said. He’d come in at some point; Yuri hadn’t even noticed.

"I want to see how Yuri reads it."

"You could read it to him." Otabek sat on the rug next to his son, pulling him in for a quick hug. "You've basically got it memorized."

"Do not."

Otabek rolled his eyes. "If you want to try, I can help."

"You shouldn't have to help me," he said. "You should let me—"

"I've got the book memorized too," Otabek said. "it's fine. Don't worry about it."

Yuri opened the book and started reading. [The book](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EZwY5BeYcyo)’s main joke was that the person reading the book realized they had to do everything the book said, and you pretended to be increasingly upset as the book told you to get sillier and siller. Kasym started giggling about halfway through the book, and giggled harder at the parts where Yuri got stuck on the words and Otabek had to help.

By the time he finished it, Kasym was almost rolling on the floor, and Varida had come in to laugh, too. Apparently acting like a moron in front of the kids made him more likable to them. He'd take the victory, weird as it was.

Otabek seemed pretty pleased, too.

Varida grabbed another book and shoved it at him.

"I'm not reading another book in English. Russian, okay?"

She sighed dramatically, and found another one. This one was one he remembered from when he was a kid, about a bear who didn't want to hibernate. The kids kept shifting closer to him. Personal space was apparently not much of a thing at storytime. When he'd finished that one, Otabek reached over and picked another book. "This is the last one for a while," he said. "Yuri has to go to the rink."

"Does he?"

"Yes," Otabek said, and scooped Kasym up in his arms. "Come on, you can find something else to do other than asking Yuri to read you books."

"We like books," Varida said. "You and Dad like that we like books."

"We do," Otabek said. "I'm sure Yuri does too. But that doesn't mean he doesn't need to go to practice."

They both pouted. Yuri followed Otabek's lead and showed no mercy.

"I'll be back," he said. "I can read some more before dinner, if you want. All right?"

"All right," they chorused.

He wished that he'd had a little overlap with Leo, but as it was Otabek's mother had had to cover when they were both at the ice show, and needed to get back to work. The au pair had left with Nurdaulet. "We had things worked out, until this—" Otabek gestured at his temple—"happened. It’s all right while they're in school, and I can hire another au pair, but—I can't _think._ I don't even know what I'll be capable of from week to week. It's hard to plan. My mother and comes in when she can, but Uljan and Timur are too far away to be much help, and Elena’s in medical school now. She can’t come running back for this."

"What about Nurdaulet? Where are things at with him now?"

"I don't know," Otabek said. "I was...I thought I knew where I was, and what I could do next. I was ready. And now it's...I don't know why I bothered."

Yuri had never seen him this close to giving up. "Because you don't let anything stop you," Yuri said. "You never have."

"I can't lose them," Otabek said. "Nothing's more important than that. I know you don't—" He stopped, like he was just short of saying some bullshit he didn't want to say. "I know you didn't want kids. I don't mean it like that."

 _I never said I didn't want kids. I said I wasn't sure._ "It's different," Yuri said. "It's okay."

"I really appreciate this. My family can only do so much, and if I hire someone...I don’t feel like I can trust anyone right now. If I hire the wrong person, if it comes out how bad it is, right now—"

"You're not that bad," Yuri said. "Just absent-minded."

"And I can't drive," Otabek said. "And sometimes I have trouble with math. I don't feel _functional."_

"I'm sorry."

"I'm just frustrated. I feel like I'm hiding from my own children half the time. But they were having such a hard time with the divorce, and now I'm useless, and—"

"You're a good father," Yuri said. "You're not useless. Don't give me that bullshit."

"I'll be better in the morning," he said. "When I get tired, I get...like this now. The doctor said it's probably not permanent, that it's because I'm...idle, and I'm not sleeping great from the concussion. Feels like all I do is sleep, but it doesn't get me anywhere, so..." He rubbed at his temple with the heel of his hand. "I'm sorry."'

"You're not alone," he said. "And you're going to get better."

He looked into Yuri's eyes, and he lightened a little. "Yeah, I am," he said. "I'm glad you're here."

Yuri took his free hand. "Nothing's going to stop us," he said. He'd meant it when they'd first met, when they thought they could do anything. Now he just had to believe it was still true. "You think you're going to get back on the ice?"

"Yeah," Otabek said.

"Then tell me what I can do to make that happen, too."

Yuri decided his second most important task, right behind making sure Otabek's kids didn't die on his watch, was to make sure Otabek got whatever he needed to get better. He Googled to see if there was anything special you should eat when you were recovering from a brain injury, he found a white noise app he could put on Otabek's phone to see if it would help him sleep better, and he asked every coach he'd ever worked with for advice. Mostly the advice boiled down to ‘give it time and let him heal,’ but he was still reassured by it.

On Wednesday, he started talking more with the kids; the first two days had mostly been a rush of getting them to and from school, and they'd mostly gotten over their shyness, though Kasym was still a little hesitant. He asked them questions about school—Kasym was a natural student, even for preschool, as far as Yuri could tell, and Varida would rather be out playing football or skating, depending on the season. They both liked animals, and cats, and neither of them talked about their other parent at all.

"The therapist said that was normal," Otabek said. "I try to get them to talk about him some, and I don't want them to think they _can't_ talk about him or miss him, but I also want them to not feel like I'm forcing them. That's a shitty thing to do to a kid, you know?"

Yuri thought of the times he'd wondered where the hell his father was, and if the asshole even knew he existed. He wondered if he'd ever said anything to Grandpa or his teachers. He sure as fuck didn't say it to his first coach, and by the time he was working with Yakov, Mom had all but disappeared. No one had ever asked him shit. He probably would've told them to fuck off if they had.

But Nurdaulet still wanted to stay in the picture, which was something Yuri wasn’t used to at all. Yuri had never had to worry about going from one house to another or his parents playing mind games. He'd seen that once with Danyl at the rink; they hadn't been friends but it was hard not to notice the fucking mess going on. He understood why Otabek didn't want to do any of that shit to his kids.

The kids were pretty fun, too, once they'd gotten used to him. They played ridiculous games that were too complicated and took too long, they begged to go to the park every five minutes and then complained about being in the park once they got there. But they also asked to bring back treats for Otabek when they were out together, and asked weird and fascinating questions about what skating professionally was like, the places Yuri had been, and about whatever random shit floated into their heads.

The most time he’d ever really spent with kids was summers in Hatsetsu, when the triplets treated him as their personal chew toy. Even then, he hadn't woken up with them, fought them into their clothes, checked what felt like a hundred times a day to make sure they'd used the bathroom before they left the apartment. By the end of the week he knew exactly where every public restroom was between Otabek's apartment, the school, and the park, and he'd done more laundry than he'd thought any human being could do. He'd also bought more emergency snacks, sang more songs, and spoken more Kazakh than he'd ever thought he would.

The kids still liked teaching him Kazakh best, correcting his grammar with the despotic enthusiasm that only small children given power really relish. Yuri recognized it from the triplets. He didn't mind it, though; it let them believe they had an edge on him, and he needed to get better at Kazakh anyway. It made a better impression when he was at the rink to stumble through bad Kazakh than to use flawless Russian. He was a guest in the country, and guests always looked better when they made an effort. Lilia had taught him that years ago.

For the first week Yuri dropped the kids off, skated, came back to the apartment to see if Otabek was sleeping. Usually he was, and Yuri would hover around the door of his bedroom, just watching him, like if he didn't check Otabek might stop breathing or something. He knew the danger for that was long past. But he watched anyway.

Sometimes Otabek was awake, though, and sometimes he was even up for video games. Most of the time when he was up they listened to music, comfortable, the way they used to when they were kids. It was weird how easily they fell into routine like they'd been living together for years. It helped that there was always some shit Yuri needed to be doing; working on his routines, washing dishes, sorting through the kids' laundry. On good days, Otabek was feeling well enough to help, but he prioritized his energy for when the kids were awake and home.

On Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, they came back on the bus. Tuesdays, Yuri walked to the school and picked them up, Kasym from his preschool classroom, Varida from kindergarten, so they could go to the library. Thursdays was dance class, and Yuri got into the habit of coming to get them a little early so he could watch. He'd done enough ballet; it was interesting to see where they were at. Varida had Otabek's focus, and a natural talent for ballet that she sure as fuck hadn't gotten from him. Kasym was more like Otabek had always described himself in ballet class, but he didn't lack enthusiasm.

They skated on Saturdays at the rink; Otabek said he didn't want to push them, though they both showed talent. Yuri had ice time after that, which made it easier.

Life at Otabek's apartment started feeling normal a lot faster than Yuri thought it would. The offputting, eyes-on-you feeling that came from having a small child stare at you wasn't that different than a life lived in public, and Yuri was no stranger to having to go for a run when things got tense, so that's what he did every time Nurdaulet Skyped in to talk to the kids. At the end of the first week he asked Yakov if he could stay for three weeks instead of two. “VIdeo every day,” Yakov said, and that was the end of the discussion.

One day when he needed to keep the kids out of Otabek's hair for a while, he pulled up a stool and a chair to the kitchen counter and started teaching them how to fill pizrokhi. "My grandpa taught me to do this," he said. "I don't even remember how old I was. It's not hard once you figure out how much filling to put in the middle."

Varida’s fingers were a little more nimble, but Kasym got the hang of it quickly enough. He made them clean up the counter while he heated the oil, and then had them put paper towels on plates while he fried. He made them teach him one of the songs they sang at preschool to keep them from getting bored and deciding Otabek needed 'help.'

When they cooled, he had them tiptoe out and see if Otabek was awake.

He was. He stepped into the kitchen with a bit of amusement in his eyes, and Yuri sent Varida to get plates so they could eat properly.

"I haven't had your pizrokhi in a long time," Otabek said.

"We helped," Varida said. "It's fun!"

"Next time I'll make it with katsudon," Yuri said, "but I wanted to keep it simple."

Otabek volunteered to do the dishes afterward. He was better enough that Yuri was starting to see the difference, and enough that even Otabek was starting to see a light at the end of the tunnel. "My sister's going to be shocked," he said. "I was napping most of the time when she left."

"Good," Yuri said. "Maybe we'll promote you from dish duty by the end of the week."

"Maybe."

The next day Otabek spent most of his time in bed. Yuri had learned to roll with it. He also learned how to wash milk and chocolate stains out of clothes, what the kids didn't like to eat, what Kasym was allergic to (lactose, shrimp), what the best filling for blini was (raspberry jam and coconut cream), when to push the kids and when to let them vent their stress all over him to save Otabek the yelling.

When Otabek's mother Zhanar came to check on them in the second week, he was getting them ready for school, one bag over his arm, the other on Varida’s back, wiping egg off Kasym’s mouth because they were already going to be late. "Sorry," he said, as he hustled them out the door, "we'll talk later—say hello to your grandmother."

"Hi, Grandma!"

"Good morning, Grandma!"

They wanted to stay, but by some miracle he got them out of the apartment and down the stairs, and they'd missed the first bus but the second, around the corner, was running early, so he threw them on and nodded to Mr. Kim and off they went. He was out of breath by the time he got back up.

"I see it's going well," Zhanar said, with a twinkle in her eye.

"They made the bus," Yuri said, and collapsed back into his chair to finish breakfast. "I don't know how, but they made the bus."

"You're how they made the bus," Otabek said, mild as ever. "You're getting pretty good at it."

Yuri rolled his eyes.

"Leo had to call a driver for them three times the first week," Zhanar said. "I want to know what your secret is."

"Russian," Yuri said. "Yelling and Russian." As if they took any of his yelling seriously. Sometimes he felt like he had when he was fifteen and Yuuri was poking at him just to get a rise. Two nights ago Kasym had cried for two hours for his stuffed monkey, which Otabek, roused by the yelling, had explained patiently was at Nurdaulet’s house and was having a good time there taking care of the house and keeping Nurdaulet’s current ‘friend’ company while Nurdaulet was still on his book tour. Which was when it had hit Yuri that the kid was mostly just tired and frustrated about the shitty situation he was in, and wanting his other dad but afraid to ask for him. Yuri had wanted to drive down there and beat the guy senseless before he remembered he wasn’t even in the fucking country.

"They like him," Otabek told his mother.

"They liked Leo, but they didn't want to listen to him."

"Leo tried to be their friend, didn't he?" Yuri put his fork down. The fucking eggs were cold and he wasn't that hungry any more, anyway. "You can't show weakness." Yuuko had taught him that. She'd showed kindness, and love, and empathy, but she didn't compromise most of the time. She just set the rule, and stuck to it, and that was that. "Grandmas can spoil them, but some guy who's come to get them back and forth from school?" He shook his head.

"You're a natural," Zhanar said. "Now, what do you need me to help you catch up on?"

"Banking," Otabek said. "I think the laundry's caught up."

"Someone needs to take the kids birthday shopping, too," Yuri said. "And you might have to do it, because I don't know who Sasha is."

"I can manage that," she said. "I’ll pick them up.”

Otabek and Yuri had some extra time together while she took care of them. Yuri made dinner, and sure, it crossed his mind he could light some candles, but he also reminded himself that it hadn't been that long since Nurdaulet had walked out the door, so he just made a roast and called it good enough.

He remembered back when he was still balancing high school and skating, when Otabek came to visit and they'd sit up all night talking. For years, it was comfortable, just being near his best friend, and while he felt a spark of attraction every time they got close, it wasn't a distraction. Not at first. When he'd been fifteen he'd jerked off over almost everything anyway.

This was as close to that feeling of closeness and of possibility as he'd had for a long time, and it felt good.

Somehow they hadn't run out of things to talk about, though having the kids gone meant they didn't have to censor themselves as much. Yuri didn't bring up Nurdaulet, and didn't ask about the kids unless Otabek brought them up first.

"I know this has been a lot of work," Otabek said.

"Yeah, it has been," Yuri said, bumping Otabek's foot with his own under the table. "You'd do the same for me."

"I wouldn't have to deal with two kids."

Yuri shrugged. "I might've had kids by now. I wasn't ready when you asked, but that was six years ago."

Otabek watched his face. "I thought you didn’t want—”

Shit. Shit, this had gone serious fast. "I don't know," he said. "There hasn't been anybody. Nobody serious. I guess. I don't want to be a single parent. I don't—shit, I still don't know if I could do it. But back then, I knew I couldn't. I know I'm not that much younger than you are, but I wasn't ready then."

Otabek went back to his roast. "Sometimes I think I should have waited," he said.

"No," Yuri said. "This is what you wanted. And you wouldn't have your kids. I know you wouldn't give them up."

"I wouldn't," Otabek said. "But—this is hurting them. If I'd done things differently—"

"You don't know that."

"No," he said. "I never will."

"Beks, you're a good father. They love you. They're going to be fine. Don't—don't blame yourself for the shit your ex pulled."

"I loved him," Otabek said. "I did what he wanted. I would've done anything to make him happy. What does that say about me?"

"It says you loved someone. Come on. Don't try to pull this shit on me. You know my family."

"That's why you won't be a single parent," Otabek said. "Because—"

"You're _not_ my mother," Yuri said, and he didn't bother trying to hide his anger. "Don't even fucking think about saying that."

"I didn't mean—"

"Don't," Yuri said. "Just fucking don't. You're a good parent. I'm not going to sit here and listen to you talk shit about yourself."

Otabek fell silent. So much for being able to talk like a pair of fucking adults. The roast felt dry in Yuri's mouth. He choked down a little more and got up from the table, grabbing his plate.

"I'm sorry," Otabek said, when he was at the sink.

"I'm not going to apologize," Yuri said into the dishes.

"You don't have to. You—I shouldn't have brought up your family. You're right. I get angry with myself. I told you it was worse at night."

"I know," Yuri said. "But...you can't do it to yourself. And it sucks to—I can't listen to it, okay?"

"Okay," Otabek said.

He started running the water. "I don't mind working. I don't mind taking care of the kids. Any of that shit, just don't ask me to—"  
"Okay," Otabek repeated. He'd walked closer, was nearer the sink. Yuri felt his presence. If he stepped back they might touch, Otabek’s chest against his back. When was the last time he'd gotten laid? It hadn't been that long, but it felt like eighty years. Otabek still looked so good. Yuri still wondered what it would feel like, what it would be like. Even though Otabek was still recovering. Even if part of him wanted to scream with frustration. There was still that other part, the part that had never gone away. The part that still wondered what would have happened if he _had_ thought he'd been ready. If they'd still be in this apartment, but the kids would be—

There was no fucking point in wondering about that.

"Let me be your friend," Yuri said. "That's all."

Otabek didn't say anything for a minute, and Yuri was worried he'd fucked something up, and then the door opened and Zhanar and the kids were back, and there wasn't anything to think about but getting them into their pajamas and off to bed. Yuri finished the dishes while Otabek tucked the kids in.

"We're going to miss you," Zhanar said.

"Oh," Yuri said, and felt self-conscious. "It's—I was glad the kids liked me."

"They told me that they'd made their father put your birthday on the calendar so they'd remember to send you a present. They don't do that for just anyone."

"Shit, I don't need a present," he said.

"They don't think of things that way," she said. "And it might not be anything you want, so don’t get your hopes too high."

"It's sweet," he said. "It's—kind of cool, the way they look at things. I never had little brothers or sisters or anything."

"You couldn't tell," she said.

"When I was a teenager, the family that runs the rink in Hatsetsu had triplets, a little older than Varida. That was kind of a crash course."

"Triplets?"

He nodded. "And all of them were tyrants. Those two are easy compared to the girls."

"That was...was that the year you and Beka met?"

He nodded.

"So you were what, fifteen?"

"Yeah." It seemed like a lifetime ago, but it had been. He'd been so fucking angry.

"You've been friends a long time."

"Yeah. He...helped me a lot. Least I can do is look after the kids for a few weeks."

She nodded. "He's doing better, isn't he?"

"I think so, yeah. He still gets down at night sometimes."

"It's been a lot of change, and the kind of change you can't really prepare for."

Yuri dried the last of the dishes. "I've got to Skype my coach in a minute—it was nice to see you, though. Thanks for taking them out."

"Of course," she said. "They're my grandchildren. Who's better to spoil them than me?"

He smiled. "Yeah."

Yakov told him his toe loops needed to be cleaner; Lilia said his focus was getting better, but wasn't there yet. He didn't know how the fuck he was going to get more focus. He knew he'd end up distracted all over again in St. Petersburg.

He talked to Grandpa for a while after that. Grandpa had asked a lot about the kids, and tonight he must have been feeling nostalgic, because he told Yuri some stories about back when Yuri was about the same age. Yuri had tried to forget a lot of those memories. It was weird to think of how it must've been for Grandpa, and Grandma when she was alive, too.

"Was it hard?" he asked.

"Was what hard, Yurochka?"

"You had to change everything, to take care of me. You...you'd already had Mom, and my aunt, and then you had to start everything all over again."

"It wasn't really starting over again," Grandpa said. "Your mother was there for a while. I know you don't remember it very well, but she tried as much as she could."

 _Don't cover for her,_ Yuri thought, but there was no point in that. Grandpa was right that Yuri didn't really remember the years when she was around, he'd been too little. And Grandpa needed to believe that Mom had given a fuck, even if she never had. "But still," he said.

"You're our grandson," Grandpa said. "We would have given everything we had to keep you safe and healthy, you know that. And...if you ever have children of your own, you'll understand that it is hard, but it's not the kind of work you regret. It's the kind of work you're grateful to have."

"Really?"

Grandpa laughed. "Are you regretting helping your friend?"

"No," Yuri said.

"Then you won't regret it later. You understand?" He watched Yuri's face, and nodded. "You are very special, Yuri. You were always wanting to make us happy. When we lost your grandmother, after we came back from the funeral, you gave me a hug and promised me you'd take care of me, so I wouldn't be so sad."

Fuck. Seriously? "Grandpa, I—"

He waved at Yuri to shut it. "You are very kind. I know you pretend you are not, still. But it is good for you to remember that you care for other people. And it is good for you to have someone to care for. It was good for me, too. You understand?"

"I guess so."

"Are you going to be all right, going back?"

"Of course," he said. "I need to get back to skating. I know I haven't had enough ice time."

"You will worry about your friend," he said.

"Yeah. But he's doing better, and his ex is going to be back this week. JJ even said he could make it down for a week if Beks needed him." JJ was so fucking loud Yuri had no idea how anyone could heal around him, but even Yuri wasn't enough of a dick to be angry about the offer. Isabella said she might come down, too, with their kid. Yuri had always figured they'd have a big family, but there was just the girl so far, and no sign of any more on the way. Wasn't his business anyway.

"That's good," he said. "But I think you will still miss them."

"Yeah," he said.

Otabek came with him to the park a few times, and they let the kids run while they sat on one of the benches and talked. Otabek knew most of the local kids, and Yuri got to match a few names with faces. Mostly there were nannies and au pairs, but there were a few parents with their own kids, and one of the parents Otabek was friendly with stopped by to catch up. Yuri watched the kids and pretended not to listen.

Otabek did introduce him, eventually; Min-joon, tall and lean and a little more handsome than Yuri would’ve liked. "You didn't meet Leo," he said. "He was here for a while, helping out. It's been hard. I've really appreciated having everyone around."

"If you need anything, you can always give us a call," he said. "We're always happy to help, you know that."

"I do," he said. "I appreciate it."

Min-joon looked over at the kids. "It's something. I didn't know that you were a figure skater when I first met you. And now I've met more figure skaters than I thought I ever would in my life."

"There wouldn't be the program there is in Kazakhstan without Otabek," Yuri said.

"I know that now," Min-joon said. "It's just funny. You see someone at the park, and they're just another dad, and then you find out they have this whole other life. And I mean, I do too, we all do. We just meet each other as parents, first."

"Half the time I can't remember people's names. They're just 'Taran's father' or Hyun’s mother."

"See?” Min-joon grinned. “Otabek gets it."

Otabek was restless that night, and he talked Yuri into showing him way too much tape. "I love that," Otabek said, when Yuri played him the step sequence they'd scrapped from the FS. "Why did you take it out?"

"I couldn't get it down consistently," Yuri said. "I want to use it in my short next season, when I'll have more time to work on it."

Otabek had leaned close to the screen. "You have to. It's perfect. Lilia is very good at finding your strengths."

"The old man and Katsudon came up with that, actually, it's why it's so fucking hard."

Otabek nodded, like suddenly it all made sense. "I'll watch more carefully on Saturday."

"Oh, yeah, that's not pressure, the three of you assholes looking on."

"Your biggest fans," Otabek said, and Yuri felt his chest clench.

"Definitely no fucking pressure." He’d been wondering something since the park. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

"Your ex," he said. "He didn't talk about your career much, right? Everyone knew he was the big writer, but—"

"Yeah," Otabek said. "Do we have to talk about this?"

Shit. "I didn't—I'm sorry, shit. You're...of course we don't." He was always shooting his fucking mouth off.

"It's okay. I just—you're not wrong, but...I'm not proud of it. I lost a lot of what I thought was important to me, and I didn't even realize it was happening."

Yuri didn't know what to say to that. He felt like that a lot when he talked with Otabek, when he wasn't just thinking about punching Nurdaulet in the throat. "You don't have anything to be ashamed of," he said, eventually.

"Maybe not," Otabek said, unconvinced.

Yuri crawled into bed that night and felt alone and hollow. Sometimes he'd hear the kids come in with Otabek when they'd had a nightmare, and he tried to run interference most of the time, but Otabek wanted them with him, too. Usually he forced himself to wake up enough to feel confident that Otabek could handle it, and then he drifted back off.

Tonight, he thought about what it would be like in Otabek's room, his arm around Bek's waist, as Varida came in and Otabek talked to her, low and reassuring.  
It was probably a bad fucking sign when you started fantasizing about something other than sex. Yeah. Definitely a bad sign.

The kids didn't cry when they saw him off the following Monday, but Yuri kind of wanted to, and he kicked himself for it. Stupid sentimentality. "We'll still talk on Skype," Otabek promised, and Yuri wasn't sure if was to reassure him or the kids.

"You'll show us Potya," Varida said.

"We should get a cat so Yuri can have one when he visits again," Kasym suggested.

Otabek sighed and put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Potya might get jealous," he said. "Cats can be very jealous."

"They can," Yuri agreed. "And I'll make sure you see him, all right? He'll have missed talking with you, too."

He'd taken a late enough flight that he could sleep on the plane, but he didn't. By the last hour he'd ordered some strong coffee to make sure he'd be alert enough to make it home. Even with that, he was exhausted when he finally got back to his apartment, empty because Potya was staying with Lilia and he had planned on picking him back up in the morning. He collapsed on the bed, managing to kick off his socks and pull his hair out of its ponytail before he fell asleep.

He woke up in the morning mostly fully clothed, the curtains still open, the sunlight punching directly into his eyes. "Fuck this," he said, to no one in particular, and got up to take a shower. He bought some tea cakes on the way to Lilia's, so they could eat together while Potya hid from him, still insulted that he'd been left behind.  
It was always good to see her again. She asked about his routines first, about his next rink time, and then asked how Otabek was recovering. Somehow from there she got out of him what life at the apartment had been like, about dealing with the kids, about Almaty.

"I think we should change your free skate," she said, when she was picking up the empty plates.

Lilia did plenty of lateral thinking, but he hadn't expected that. "Why?"

"Because what you are telling me now about Almaty has more passion in it than anything you have done in months," she said. "And I want to see it in your skating. Your short program is all right, but we need to change your free."


	2. Cry In the Night If It Helps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sooner or later, your feelings can't be ignored.

It was easy to slip back into routine in St. Petersburg, though he did set a Skype date with Otabek and the kids once a week so he could stay in touch, and he and Leo still traded texts on how Otabek was. He had more energy during their calls, and one day he sent Yuri a video the rink manager had taken of him back on the ice. It was so fucking good to see him skate again. _It's not like competition but it still feels good.  
_

_Have you shown Phichit? He and the old man can get into a bidding war over you.  
_

_I don't need the money.  
_

_That's not the point. You need to get what you're worth._

He didn't get the next text back from Otabek until he got back from practice. _Okay. You send it to Victor, and I'll send it to Phichit.  
_

_Special preview of the returning Hero of Kazakhstan,_ he sent the old man. _Hear Phichit wants him for a show, better make an offer fast._

It took a minute to hear back. _He looks good.  
_

_He looks great. Like I said. Make an offer._

"Victor tells me he's seen Otabek skate," Lilia said, when he came over for tea. "It will be nice to have him back."

"He retired too soon," Yuri said.

Lilia said, "That was his choice to make. And the time comes for all of you. He should be able to have a nice comeback, now. Work on his own schedule."

"I guess."

"Even you'll want to stop someday."

He didn't answer. He didn't have an answer.

"I know you don't want to think that far ahead. But none of us do what we want to forever. Sometimes it's better to go ahead and try something new."

"I don't think—"

"You can blame his husband," she said. "You might be right. But it won't change what happened, and it won't help him move forward."

Fuck, she was right.

"It's easy to be angry," she said, lifting her teacup. "It's harder to be kind."

He sighed. "I'm not going to be kind to _him."_

"No. But you can help Otabek be kinder to himself. It will mean more than you realize."

Yuri wasn’t so sure of that. But he knew better than to argue.

He changed his FS, like Lilia suggested, and it felt right. His theme was 'strength,' and at least that was something he could focus on. He had a few more years, at least. Maybe more if he was careful, if he was lucky enough to avoid anything major. Otabek sent him congratulations when the Grand Prix assignments came out; Rostelecom, no surprise, and Skate America, which meant he'd see Leo.

_They're begging me to get tickets. I keep trying to tell them that it's not like having you both at the apartment.  
_

_You think you're good to fly?  
_

_Maybe not in time for Skate America, and they’re in school that week anyway. But soon, I hope. Most days are normal now. It's just the migraines. But it's better. It's a lot better.  
_

_Good._

Leo gave him the biggest fucking hug when he saw Yuri at the Orleans Arena.

"Hi?" Yuri said.

"I haven't seen you since Bangkok! How are you?"

"Okay."

Leo stepped back, so they could see each other's faces. "Wait until you see my free. We just changed it last week."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. I mean, not much, but it's so much better."

"Yeah?" It had been solid already. Shit, Yuri had been planning on snatching gold out of the gate.

Leo had the biggest fucking smile. "I can't wait to show you guys."

At that point, Guang-Hong showed up, almost tackling Leo, and then the Israeli girl whose name Yuri kept forgetting started trying to hit on Leo ( _good luck with that,_ he thought), and he snuck out to the locker room to get changed.

The last time he'd competed at this rink had been, shit, years ago. He'd won gold that year, easily, thanks to Otabek struggling with a pulled hamstring and Leo struggling with his first quad. Now Leo landed the damn thing like clockwork. Not to mention all the younger skaters that were coming up, as hungry as Yuri had been at fifteen.

 _Fuck them._ He was going to crush this fucking competition and bring back gold. Again. It was better this way, anyway. Victor had had all those years without any challenges. Yuri was going to fight for every fucking victory.

Warmups were easy, automatic. He had a text with a photo of Otabek and the kids when he got off the ice, and he grabbed Leo so they could send back a selfie together.

"I can't believe that Kasym is in kindergarten now," Leo said. "Do you think he's grown more?"

"I think they both have."

Leo whistled, low. "You miss 'em?"

"Yeah," Yuri said. "You?"

"Sometimes," Leo said. "I'm not ready for fatherhood, though, that's for sure. Beka said you were great." He hesitated. "I mean, I don't mean that—"

Yuri shrugged it off and put his phone back. "It wasn't bad. They're good kids. I learned a lot more Kazakh. They fucking drill me on Skype."

Leo laughed. "You want to grab dinner or something? I was gonna go out with Guang-Hong."

"Um. Sure." If they went out together, the Israeli girl might stop trying to bark up the wrong tree, too. Yuri wasn't sure if anything had happened, or ever would, between Leo and Guang-Hong, but no one else was going to get anywhere with Leo until that shit got worked out. If Leo even liked girls. All Yuri knew was that Leo liked Guang-Hong, and Guang-Hong was crazy about Leo.

"Okay, great! I'll text you?"

"Sure," Yuri said, and Leo was off to talk to his coach.

Yakov was waiting for him. "He has a new jump," he said, without preamble.

"You're sure?"

"Quad lutz."

"How consistent is it?"

"Consistent enough that his coach told me," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Consistent enough."

"Damn."

Yakov nodded. "I want you to think about your first combination. We might want to upgrade the first jump to a triple."

"We should," Yuri said. Gold here would mean he wouldn't have to give all his energy trying to beat Katsudon at Rostelecom. "I can do it."

Yakov nodded. "You can."

For so many years, if he went out with Leo and Guang-Hong, Otabek was there too, or one or two of them would be texting each other, taking pictures, catching each other up. They'd gotten used to not including him, but now Yuri and Leo were spending half their time on their fucking phones, sending pictures to Otabek or the kids. Guang-Hong took it all in stride, and if that wasn't love, Yuri didn't fucking know what was.

 _Hey,_ he sent to Otabek. _What's going on with them, anyway?  
_

_What do you mean?_

Yuri just sent back a picture from the sporting goods store, with Leo flipping through gloves and Guang-Hong looking like the sun rose and set on him.

_I don't know.  
_

_He didn't say anything when he was at your place?  
_

_He hasn't talked about that for a long time. I think they're both worried they'll lose support if they get together._

That would suck. Guang-Hong didn't talk much about his government; neither did Leo, though Yuri had spent more time in the US. It wasn't the kind of relationship that Russia had with Kazakhstan, that was for sure. Even that was uneasy sometimes, and who the fuck knew what the old man and Katsudon had gone through in the early days.

 _I think they’d be happier, though,_ Otabek added after a while.

_Me too._

There was a package in his room when he got back. He squinted at the return label and saw _Altin, Almaty_ and started ripping at the paper. His heart was pounding. He felt like an idiot.

There was a stuffed white tiger inside, and three notes. Otabek's said _they wanted to throw it to you in person, but I told them you'd like this too._

Varida’s note said _Good luck!_ with a half-dozen hearts and smiley faces. Kasym had drawn him a picture of a cat with lots of little cartoon hearts. Yuri snapped a selfie with all of it and sent it to Otabek. _Thanks. Tell them I'll keep it in my room to watch over my stuff. I don’t want to lose it at the rink.  
_

_I will. You feel good about tomorrow?  
_

_Yeah.  
_

_Good luck. They'll be cheering you on.  
_

_You're not?  
_

_I'll be cheering all of my friends on. They play favorites.  
_

_Oh, I see._ Shit, did that mean he was the favorite? _I know Leo's got a new jump. I'm still gonna win.  
_

_I know. But I'll still cheer for both of you._

He'd missed Otabek's confidence in him. _Does the tiger have a name?  
_

_They argued about it so much I told them you'd want to name it yourself. They're forbidden from giving you any suggestions.  
_

_Ouch.  
_

_Trust me. We're all happier this way._

Yuri kind of wanted to know what names they fought over, but Beks was probably right that it was a bad idea. _Do you have any suggestions?  
_

_I've had to name too many stuffed animals. This is a journey you must take on your own.  
_

_You asshole.  
_

_Just don't name it anything I can't tell the kids.  
_

_I should, just out of spite.  
_

_They'd be sad._

Fuck. He didn't play fair. _Fine. I'll think of something.  
_

_Do you think you'll have time to talk after the SP?  
_

_Yeah, I should. I'll text you when I'm headed back to my room. As long as you're all awake then it should work.  
_

_Thanks._

He sat with the fucking tiger in his lap for a while, trying to figure out a name. It'd be just his fucking luck if he picked something one of the kids had been fighting for. He sent a picture of it to Lilia, even though she wouldn't be up for hours. She was good at shit like that.

Eventually he got around for bed. He jerked off in the dark, pretending he wasn't thinking about Otabek sinking down on his cock. At least that got him to sleep.

In the morning he realized he'd set the tiger down so it would be staring at him from his bedside table when he woke up. It had weird little yellow eyes. One of them was a little higher than the other. Little nylon whiskers, the kind he'd stabbed himself in the eye with once when he was a kid hugging the big lion Grandma had bought him for his birthday. He picked it up again. "Hey, asshole," he said. "Let's see if Lilia gave you a name."

_I think you need to ask yourself why you are relying on me to name a stuffed animal._

"So much for that plan," he said, to no one, and got dressed.

Maybe he'd name it after one of Lilia's signature roles. That might piss her off, and the kids probably wouldn't have thought about that. _All right, I'm calling her Gisele,_ he told Lilia. _I hope Potya won't be jealous when I get home.  
_

_My sister had a cat that used to attack stuffed animals that looked like other cats,_ she said. _Gisele will have to hold her own.  
_

_I'll remember that.  
_

_Skate your best today. I am looking forward to your performance._

The SP was good. Not his best, but solid, expressive.

Leo nailed three quads and ended up a point ahead in the standings.

Yuri stomped off to his room and called Otabek.

The kids had handmade signs, which they were waving as Otabek picked up the call. "I told them you might not be happy," he said. "But they think you did a wonderful job."

"Leo doesn't have the stamina for the free that you do," Varida said, primly. "The free has more points, right, Papa?"

"I wonder who could have taught them that," Yuri said.

"Oh, they decided Leo doesn't have enough stamina all on their own. He couldn't chase them as long."

Yuri laughed. He felt better. He always felt better when he'd seen Otabek. Having a tiny fan club didn't hurt. "I'll skate my best tomorrow, I promise."

"They have decided Leo can have silver," Otabek said. "They're not _complete_ monsters."

They both objected, loudly, to being called monsters, and Otabek shushed them both, which didn't really work. Yuri just let them calm down.

"I have to skate tomorrow, so I'm going to get to bed, okay?"

"Okay!"

"Give Gisele a hug for us," Varida demanded, and he grabbed it off the dresser and hugged it so they could see. They waved at the damn thing and Yuri grabbed its paw and half-waved back.

"All right, go," Otabek said. "Let's let Yuri get some rest."

They chorused goodnights and Otabek chased them offscreen, all of them chattering in Kazakh.

"Did you just promise to make pizrokhi with them?

"Yes. They're always begging to, now."

"I did okay, huh?"

"Yeah," Otabek said, that tiny hint of a smile on his face. "You were great."

Leo held on to silver, with a beautiful FS, and Jean Thomas fought his way to third. Not a bad performance. Guang-Hong was just behind that, which meant he was closer to the Final. "Nice work," Yuri told him, when things had calmed down a little.

"It's not enough," Guang-Hong said, "but thanks."

"Thomas was a fluke. And we'll be ready for Leo next time."

Shit, there was something sad in Guang-Hong's smile. "Yeah."

"Come on, get a picture with me for the kids. They were asking about you."

"Yeah?" That brightened him up. "Sure. I haven't seen them since Kasym was a baby."

"I think Beks tells them a lot of stories now, so they can keep track."

"I want him to do my EX next year, we already talked about it."

"Good," Yuri said, and got out his phone.

He got a selfie with Leo, too, and with Mila and Ivan. He sent a ton of them to Otabek. _Congratulations. They both want me to tell you they knew you could do it.  
_

_Tell them to go to bed.  
_

_It's the weekend_

Yuri grinned at it. Otabek must be feeling better, or he wouldn't be so blase about letting them stay up. That felt good.

At some point he’d gotten into the habit of sending things back to the kids. He caught himself buying extra gummi candies, little things with pandas and ducks that would be easy to ship. Once he had an envelope's worth, he'd throw in a note or some stickers and send it off. It wasn't a big deal. It was nice that he could do it, that it didn't feel like some charged, emotional bullshit just to say hi to Otabek again or send the kids something fun.

Mila was the one who called him on it.

"When are you gonna tell him?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" he said, shoving the package of churchkhela into his bag.

"You don't eat that," she said, pointing. "You've always said it was disgusting. _That_ is bound air mail for Kazakhstan."

"So what if it is?" Varida liked them.

"So how much shit are you sending to Almaty every week?"

"It's not every week, Baba."

She fixed him with a look. "If I went to the post office, would they say that?"

"They're kids," he said. "It doesn't cost me much of anything. It makes them happy."

"It makes you happy," she said. "You're buying things all the time. You talk about them all the time."

"They've been through a lot," he said. "It's not a big deal if—"

She dug into her purse for her lip gloss. "You should tell him," she said, like they'd been having a completely different conversation the whole time.

"What?"

"Otabek," she said, like he was the stupidest person alive. She took the top off her lip gloss. "He's a single dad. He has to think about things. If you're interested he needs to know, and if you're just doing this to work through your issues with your mom or whatever, he should know that too."

He felt anger leaping up the back of his spine, but he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of yelling. Not this time. "We're fine," he said. "And it's got nothing to do with my fucking mother." He very deliberately separated from her after the crosswalk, taking the half-second she took to check her makeup in a shop window to take the way back to the rink she didn't like as much. She'd get the hint.

It wasn't his mother. It didn't have anything to do with either of his shitty parents. Otabek's ex was a gold-plated dick but he wasn't the kind of shitty parent Yuri remembered. He had a fucking right to like his friend's kids, anyway. It'd be more fucked-up if he didn't. He'd lived with them for close to a month, it would've been weirder if he didn't remember what they liked to eat and what they were doing in school. Would've been weirder if he didn't miss them at all.

When he was waiting for the light to change again, watching two drivers scream at each other through their open windows, it hit him how _much_ he missed them.

Mila was right.

Fuck. Fuck this whole shitforsaken mess in the ear. He missed the kids as much as he missed Otabek, and he'd missed Otabek so much for so long that missing him had just become the background of Yuri's life, like his feet aching or his rinkmates being annoying. He'd done his best to kill it when Otabek was married by reminding himself, often, that Otabek _was_ married, with two picture-perfect dark-haired Kazakh children who would no doubt smell funny and be annoying up close.

The kids did smell funny and they were annoying up close, and they also loved stupid kid things and cats and talking about figure skating and shit, shit, shit, Yuri missed them _so fucking much._

Mila was already annoying, and Grandpa loved him too much to be able to answer honestly. Yakov would have just looked at him like he was crazy, and the Katsukis and Yuuko were too far away.

"Do you think I'd be a good father?" he asked Lilia one night when he'd come over to cook dinner, fake-casually, like it was just another topic of conversation.

"Do you mean father or stepfather?"

She never fucked around. He had to remind himself that that was one of the reasons he'd come to her. "Either," he said. "Both, I don't know."

"I could never picture you with a baby," she said, folding her hands on the table as she thought. "Though children are not babies for very long. But I don't think you've asked the right question."

"So what's the right question?" He sat down across from her to watch her answer.

“Yakov introduced us when he thought you were ready to be serious. Since we met, you’ve never hesitated to try new things or to push yourself," she said. "And you succeed at them best when you put your whole heart and soul into them. You have to ask yourself if you are ready to put your heart and soul into it. Into that family."

"Oh," Yuri said.

"I don't mean giving up skating, or changing who you are, do you understand? I mean adding that love to your life. It is a tremendous change. And only you know if you want to make it. There is no second chance with children. It is just like a performance. When the music starts, you cannot change your mind." She’d never had children, but of course she’d spent years with dancers, at skating rinks. She’d seen plenty of people grow up. Helped them, sometimes, like she’d helped Yuri.

Yuri didn't really think about her as old any more, she just...was, the way Yakov and Grandpa just were. But when she looked into his face like this, he could see the lines and wrinkles. He wondered if Lilia had ever done anything lightly, aside from dancing. She wasn't speaking lightly now. She'd seen through to how serious he was.

"What if I'm not good at it, though? What if I put all of myself into it and—"

She took his hand. "Are you really going to accept defeat that easily?"

 _No,_ all his instincts screamed. "No," he said. "I don't want to. I won't."

"Then you have your answer," she said.

He went out to a bar that night, danced until he was drenched in sweat, found a guy to make out with. The guy was from France and didn't speak much Russian, which was exactly what Yuri wanted.

"Come back to hotel, yes?" he asked. He'd told Yuri his name and Yuri had already forgotten it. "I be good. Suck cock, yes?"

Yuri felt him up again and said, "Tell me where your room is."

He got the room number and the spare key, and then stood outside the bar and wondered if he should actually do it. He scrolled through his phone. Most of his pictures and texts were about Otabek and the kids.

 _I'm not a fucking monk,_ he thought. That got him as far as the front door of the hotel before he bailed.

He went home, checked on Potya, and took a shower to get the bar stink off. Then he got into bed naked and jerked off.

Usually he could sleep after that, but he looked up at the ceiling in the dark instead. It was five in the morning in Almaty. They'd all be sleeping. He could picture the bed, Otabek shirtless, his hair mussed and soft-looking. The sounds of the Almaty morning were different, too, and he let himself dream about that, too. Potya jumped on the bed and rubbed at his fingers for attention. "Fine," he said. "You know, you're too old to fly out with me." He'd never traveled well, even as far as the vet. "And they can't come up here. Not for a while, anyway."

He just purred and asked for more attention. Lilia loved him, anyway. They'd be fine together if—

He was so fucking far ahead of himself.

He didn't sleep well when he finally slept, too many thoughts keeping him up, having to piss too many times from the beer. Potya kept headbutting him. Stupid cat. "You're not gonna like it if I run away to Almaty,” he said. He sat on Yuri’s chest and fell asleep. At least one of them could sleep.

Rostelecom was fine. Silver was enough.

Otabek's divorce went through on a Wednesday, and Yuri dug into the celebrity news to see if he could figure out how it went without starting any shit. The information came out in bits and pieces, and Otabek didn't answer his _Hope you're okay_ text until the next day.

 _It was awful, but it's over,_ he said.

_You'll let me know if you need anything._

Thanks, I will

He didn't hear anything else for a few days, and he tried not to worry about it too much. He boxed up two of the cutest plush cats he'd gotten on the ice in Moscow and sent them to Almaty without bothering with a note.

"You don't need to bribe them," Otabek said, when he called a few days later. "And they're doing fine. They don't really know many of the details about the divorce. We've kept it that way."

"I know," Yuri said, "but I've been thinking about them. You're sure you're all right? I could come down again."

"I’m going to try to make it to Euros. It might be a good chance to sell myself.”

Yuri didn’t want to hope that it meant something that he’d pick Euros over 4CC, but he did. "You want to do my EX next season?"

"I thought I wasn't allowed to do your EX ever again."

"Lilia’s softening up in her old age."

Otabek laughed. “No way you’ve got your theme settled already, though.”

"Mostly," he said. After the conversation he'd had with Lilia about parenting, she'd carved out two pieces of music and a theme, and it was clear that it wasn't up for debate. Yuri hadn't minded because she'd been right.

"Secret?" Otabek asked.

"A surprise," he said. "I'll tell you early, though."

"Okay," he said. "You'll need to if you want me to do your EX."


	3. Live for Each Second Without Hesitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri fesses up.

Lilia had always told him to use his passion, and he did at the Final. The kids had sent him another present—this one was a puma, and Yuri wondered if he should be on the lookout for a stuffed scorpion next—and he named it Odile. Leo's stupid fucking quad had just gotten better, and Minami Kenjiro's SP was flawless. But Yuri was two points up when everyone had performed. Even Park hadn't been able to catch up, and his TCS was getting insane. It had felt easy.

The kids were waving Russian flags when he got on Skype. "Where's your loyalty?" Maria Kim from the Kazakh national team was here, and normally Otabek would be all about the local pride.

"We have those too," Varida said, and pulled one up from just out of frame to demonstrate. "But there aren't any Kazakh men in the final, so we're cheering for you."

"And Leo," Otabek added.

She nodded. She didn't say _whatever,_ but she didn't have to. 

"Well, he can have silver again," Yuri said.

Otabek said, "We cheer on all our friends," but he didn't seem too upset about it.

The old man and Katsudon called before bed. Because Yuri didn't get enough shit from Yakov, the old man was full of tips. Yuuri hovered over in the background, until the call was almost over. "Yurio," he said. "You heard from Otabek?"

"Yeah," he said, and that didn't seem to earn the intensity Yuuri was asking with. Had fucking Mila been talking to them? "The kids sent me—" He grabbed the puma and waved it in front of the camera. "They like sending me stuff."

"Everything's all right with them?"

"Yeah. Yeah, they're good—there's nothing going around, is there? His ex hasn't—"

"No," Yuuri said. "I just wondered..."

"Mila can shut her mouth," Yuri said. 

"She hasn't said anything," Victor said. "It's in your skating."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," he said. But he remembered Lilia talking about love changing Yuuri's skating, once. 

"If there's anything we can do," Yuuri said. "Just tell us."

"There's nothing to do," Yuri said. "They're coming to Euros, you can see them then."

"The children, too?" Victor looked pleased. "That'll be nice. I always like meeting young fans—"

"I'm not sure they know you, you've been retired so long," Yuri said casually, just to watch Victor flinch. It was mean, but it served him right for poking into Yuri's business. 

"Surely they'll know the person who made such an impact on your skating career, Yurio. I know what big fans they are."

He wasn't a teenager any more, so why were they so good at getting under his skin? Fuck. "Whatever."

"We’ll have to bring some toys," Yuuri said, unfazed. "They like cats, don't they?"

"They like cats," Yuri conceded. "They like dogs too, though. But you don't have to give them anything. You're not—they don't need bribes."

"But they like toys. We were kids once too," Yuuri said, and reached up to tease at Victor's receding hairline. "Even Victor." 

"Yuuri, that's not funny—"

Then they were off on their bullshit again and everything felt normal. 

Ivan Kasparov was going to be a competitor in a year or two, but he wasn't ready for Nationals, and Yuri took gold almost too easily. He had to remind himself that it was still early in the season, and that the rest of the world would put up tougher competition. _Maybe this is how Victor used to feel._

Victor hadn't had his own personal cheering squad waiting for him, though, and Otabek wryly discussing every single thing the judges downgraded. 

_They wanted to send another kitty, but I told them you'd run out of room if they did it every time._

_Thanks. Thank them for cheering me on._

_Always. It's been good for them. Varida is even showing some interest in learning what decimal points are for._

_I can tell him in Brussels,_ he told himself. And then Otabek called and said he wasn't coming, couldn't. "I'm sorry," he said.

"You don't have to be sorry, fuck," Yuri said. "Are you okay? The kids are—"

"They're fine," he said. "Mom's okay. We're all fine."

"I can pay if—"

"Yura," he said, sharp. "Please. I'm sorry we can't come. We'll watch the stream, I promise."

"It's not that," Yuri said, and he felt his stomach twist. "I just missed you."

"They're disappointed," Otabek said. "But they'll be okay. They're just looking forward to seeing you again. I am too. But—we'll figure something out. I'm just not sure when I'm going to be able to take them out of Almaty."

_Well, shit._ "I'll come see you guys if nothing else works out. All right?"

"You don't have to do that."

"Fuck what I have to do," Yuri said. "I'll come."

He came back from Brussels to his empty apartment, gold medal around his neck, and wanted to throw something, but it would've upset Potya, and he was getting too old to put up with temper tantrums. Yuri was too old for fucking temper tantrums. You couldn't have temper tantrums in front of kids, either.

Maybe it was better that they didn't have a chance to catch up yet. Maybe it was better to have time on his side.

He talked the old man into choreographing his free skate for next season. He listened to music for his short and tried to figure out where the edits should go. He opened up an old cookbook of Grandpa's and tried some new recipes.

It was a week and a half before he cracked.

_Do you have a minute to talk?_

_Kids'll be in bed in about an hour, is that OK?_

_That sounds good. Skype?_

_Sure._

An hour and a half later, after a fight with Skype that Yuri lost, he ended up on his back on his bed, looking up at the ceiling. _This is all right,_ he thought. _This way I don't have to look at his face._

"You're okay?" Otabek asked.

"Yeah," he said. "I just wanted to talk to you. It's been a long week."

"I'm sorry we didn't see you at Euros."

"I am too," Yuri said. "You're all okay, though?"

"We're okay. I might try to make Worlds, but it’ll probably just be me."

"If you need to stay with them...I get it."

"Yeah." Otabek sounded hesitant. Probably he could tell that Yuri was holding back. Normally he'd be midway through a rant by now, Skype or no Skype.

"You guess my theme yet?" A challenge sounded a little more like the everyday shit he'd say.

"The first song reminded me of your grandfather," Otabek said. "Someone who always reaches out a hand, who doesn't give up."

Well shit, that did sound like Grandpa. It just hadn't been picked for him. 

"Then your short—sounds like children playing, almost, but I wasn't sure. I'm thinking family's your theme."

"Pretty close," Yuri said. "Look, the theme—it's. It's you guys. It's you. Family."

Otabek didn't say anything, and Yuri plunged on, into the abyss, desperate to get it all out before Otabek freaked out.

"Beks," he said, because he couldn’t hesitate again. "Just—just don't hang up, okay? I need to...I should've said this a long time ago, I guess. I wanted to talk to you at Euros, and then you didn't come, and then..." He swallowed.

"Fuck," he continued, looking as hard as he could at the ceiling. "I miss you. I miss the kids. I miss your kids all the fucking time. I know I don't have any right to ask you...shit. To ask you anything. But I go somewhere and I wonder what the kids would think. I think of things I can buy them. I don't—I don't want to do this. I want to come home—I want you guys to _be_ home. I don't have any right to ask you for it. I just—" He closed his eyes. "I miss you. I miss you like crazy. I think about you all the fucking time. You're right about the theme being family. It's you. And it's your fucking kids. You're the one who doesn't give up. I don't want to live like this any more. I don't want to live without you."

Shit. That was too much, and too fucking much all at once. He put his face in his hands and forced himself to breathe.

Otabek didn't say anything, and Yuri wondered if he was going to hang up the phone.

"They miss you," Otabek said, after Yuri had checked his phone to make sure they were still connected, twice. "They ask about you. How you are, when we can watch your next competition, if you're coming to visit again. All the time."

Yuri's tears were hot in his eyes. He couldn't speak without sobbing, so he let Otabek talk.

"I already promised them we'll see you again. I don't even know if I can leave the country with them right now, and I couldn't—"

"I'll come," he said. "If you want me there and you can get me ice time, I’ll come."

"What about—"

"Please," he said, and shit, that had done it, he was actually crying now, fat tears rolling down his cheeks. "I'll skate better if I can—" And that was it, his throat closing up. _Stop it, you fucking drama queen. He doesn't need this._

"I'll get you ice time," Otabek said, and there was something in his voice that Yuri had heard back in Barcelona, the voice that made promises, but only those he'd keep. "I'll get you a hotel room. Nurdaulet is being—I'm sorry. I'd rather have you stay with us."

"He's the one who left you!" Yuri said, because his anger had always leaped over his tact.

"I know," Otabek said. "But I need to keep my hands clean on this. I can't give him anything." He paused for a second. "He was always jealous of you."

Yuri hadn't realized. "I'm sorry," he said.

"Not as sorry as I am," Otabek said, his voice dark. "But tell me the dates. I'll get you ice time. There's a decent hotel in walking distance. We can walk you home."

"Okay," he said.

"I think...that's better, anyway. I don't want the kids to think—I have to be careful, with them. They've been through so much already."

"No," Yuri said. "I get it."

He could hear Otabek draw in breath. "I want you here," he said.

Fuck. Fuck. God, he'd needed to hear that. "I love you," he said, again. "I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't—I know you can't rush. I don't want to. I just miss you so fucking much."

"I miss you too," Otabek said. "We all do."

"Okay," he said. "And you'll book me ice time?"

"Just give me the dates," he said. “The kids will be thrilled. They keep telling me which books they want to read you when you come. Their Russian's gotten a hell of a lot better, you know. They want to impress you."

"Tell them..." Shit. He couldn't get too heavy. "Tell them I'll show them a new cartoon when I come, all right? One of the ones I watched when I was a kid. We can pop popcorn or something again, shit." It sounded nice. Fuck, he really had lost his mind. 

"I think I know what direction your EX should go in now," Otabek said.

Yuri laughed until he choked.


	4. ...and Never Forget I'm Your Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Almaty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story earns both its E rating and the 'terrible ex' tag.
> 
> Also, Yuuri is petty.

"What made you decide to retire?" Yuri asked one afternoon, when he and Yuuri were leaning against the boards, watching Victor demonstrate a routine to one of the juniors.

Katsudon looked surprised. "What are you thinking about, Yurio?"

"Something's gonna give," he said. "My body. Yakov's waiting to retire until I do." They all knew it. "Bek's kids...I don't know. I'm thinking about it. Not, like, for a while." He'd done so much of what he wanted to do. "I just...what the fuck do I do next?"

"That's the hard part," Yuuri said, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "I still don't know."

"You wish you had kids?"

Yuuri shook his head. "I don't think Victor or I would be...we might be all right, as fathers. But I don't think we'd be happy.”

"Otabek is. He's...he's really good with them. They're happy. But I don't think I'm a stay-at-home dad."

"I don't think so either." He thought. "You have your degree, don't you?"

"Dance," he said. "I mean, it's fine, but—I don't want to teach, or anything like that.”

"You could choreograph."

"I've never done that."

He shrugged. "You'd still be moving. Creating."

"It wouldn't be the same."

"Everything changes, Yurio." He pushed his glasses up. "When I was your age—"

"You're not that much older than me—"

"I started working with Victor when I was twenty-three, Yurio. Did you forget?"

"No," he snapped.

"You've got a long time after you retire. We have to make a lot of choices. But there's always another road we can take." He started off toward the door and Yuri hustled to keep up. "You know what I was going to do, if I retired? Back then, when Victor came to Hatsetsu?"

"No." He figured Yuuri had planned to stay in Hatsetsu with his parents.

"I didn't either. I got back home, and I was depressed, and I started skating again. And I stopped thinking about it. But the whole time I was at university, I thought about it. What I'd do if I got injured, or things got too bad." He smiled, almost to himself. "I never had an answer.” His gaze was still glued to Victor. Those idiots, following each other like they were both on a string. "Victor wants to go to Almaty soon," Yuuri said. "There's a skater there who wants to work with him. If you want—"

"I'm not your pity mission."

Yuuri just watched him for a second, his eyes dark and thoughtful behind his glasses.

Yuri shoved past him. Shit, he was angry, it was just throbbing in him. He was going to say something really fucking stupid if he wasn't careful.

Victor was the one who caught up with him, at the fucking Metro, so it wasn't even like he could pretend he was going that way. "We’re not offering pity," he said.

Yuri didn't turn.

"I want to go for work. It’s not just about Otabek. But he’s our friend, too. I don’t know about Nurdaulet, but—"

"I don't know either," he said. That was why he was pissed. He was going to be late for his fucking train.

"Yurio," Victor said, as the trains rattled on. "I know this isn't easy on you. It's all right to admit that."

"I've got no fucking right to know," Yuri said, to the noise and the twilight. "What the fuck do I do with that?"

"I don't know."

"Shit," he said, after a couple more trains had passed. "You made me miss my fucking train, so you have to buy me dinner now."

"That sounds good," Victor said.

By the end of dinner he’d talked them into buying him his plane ticket, too.

The kids weren't shy at all when Yuri came in. Instead, they grabbed his hand and dragged him over to their room, showing off everything that had changed and where they'd put the toys Yuri had sent.

It hit Yuri that maybe he'd gotten a little carried away sending toys. "That's a lot of stuffed animals," he said.

"Sometimes they put them all in a big pile and dive in," Otabek said, sounding amused.

"Sounds fun."

"You can do it, too," Varida said.

"I think I'm a little big for that."

"I don't know. They do have lots of stuffed animals."

Was he judging Yuri? Fuck it. Yuri didn't care. "Yeah," Yuri said. "I...see that."

Otabek laughed. "Are you hungry or anything?"

"I'm good," he said. "What time is it? It took forever getting off the plane."

"Like three? You can have dinner with us if you want. But I told them you might need to rest."

"Dinner sounds good," he said. "You guys have anything planned?"

"You're not allowed to cook," Otabek said. "You're a guest. But—"

"We want to cook for you," Varida said. "Right, Papa?"

"If Yuri wants. There's a nice Korean place we could go to, too, but I thought you'd probably rather stay here tonight."

"If you guys wanna cook, I won't complain," he said, sitting down where he used to on the floor by the bed. "Maybe we could do the Korean place another night?"

"Sure," Otabek said, as Kasym settled on Yuri's lap with a book.

"When's your ice time?"

"Early," he said. "Mama usually comes over on weekends and hangs out with them while I'm skating, but sometimes they come to the rink."

"You want me to come over and watch?"

"Yes," Kasym said.

"You'll need to sleep," Otabek said. "Trust me, I've come back this way enough times. You’ll get to see me, don’t worry."

Yuri and Kasym both sighed at the same time. Varida had wandered off.

"She okay?" Yuri asked Otabek.

"She wanted to show you something," Otabek said. "She must have remembered."

By the time she came back, dragging the lion Yuri had sent from Moscow behind her, Yuri was halfway through a book. She shoved her brother over so they could both try to sit on Yuri's lap. "Okay, that's enough," Otabek said. "Both of you sit on each side of him. And let Yuri finish his book."

Yuri could feel Varida’s irritation. He kept reading.

When he was done, she set the lion on his lap. "This is Warrior," she said.

"Oh, that's a good name," Yuri said.

"He takes care of Papa when we're at Dad's house."

"That's great," he said. "He must be pretty brave, huh?"

She nodded. "He's very strong, too."

"Well, I know that, that's one of the reasons I sent him to you." Fuck, he'd missed them. It was going to be harder to leave this time. He petted the lion's mane. "So what are we eating?"

"It's a surprise," Kaysm said.

"If you want to crash before we eat, you can use my room," Otabek said, and that put a lump in Yuri's throat.

"I guess you can surprise me better that way," Yuri said.

It was weird to be alone in Otabek's room. It still felt a little like something that wasn't quite Otabek's; the dark wallpaper seemed like the kind of bullshit Nurdaulet would pick out, and you could see an empty nail or two where artwork wasn't there any more. But there was his certificate from the Ministry of Culture and Sports recognizing his contributions to figure skating in Kazakhstan, and his DJ stuff was still in a case in the closet.

It smelled like him, too, deodorant more than cologne, but Yuri was used to all those scents now, could pick them out. He stripped down to his shorts and got into bed, and that felt weird as hell. He wondered if Otabek had actually thought he'd sleep, because he felt wide awake now. Half hard, too. He'd been pretty clear about what he'd wanted.

Hadn't he?

Otabek had texted him. _Nurdaulet is supposed to pick them up for dinner tomorrow. So we can be alone for a while then._

Yuri read the text a couple of times. _Are you giving me permission to jerk off in your bed?_

It took way too long for Otabek to answer, and Yuri heard him telling the kids to do, or maybe not do, something in a slightly panicked voice. _If you want._

Well _fuck._ He slid his hand down into his shorts, closed his eyes. _What do_ you _want?  
_

_I'll tell you later._

Well, _now_ he was hard. He dug his headphones out of his jacket pocket, because Otabek trying to ride herd on his own kids wasn't much of a turn-on. He put on some music and jerked himself off, slow and rough, closing his eyes, picturing Otabek sliding between the sheets and taking Yuri into his mouth.

It'd been too fucking long.

He'd cleaned up and was dozing when Otabek came in, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You awake?"

Yuri answered by pulling him down, pressing their lips together, and it was light and sweet, barely a kiss, but enough that Otabek's body reacted to it, tensing then easing, his hand coming up to stroke Yuri's hair.

"Food's ready," he said. "You hungry?"

"Yeah," Yuri said, and kissed him again, before the kids could sneak in and catch them. "Just let me wash up, okay?"

"Yeah," Otabek said. He pressed his lips to Yuri's forehead, and then he was gone.

They'd made buuz stuffed with cabbage and horse, and had roasted carrots and potatoes. The kids hung on his first couple bites, but then their own appetites took over, so Yuri could take it easy on the potatoes without them getting upset. They started telling him about school—Kasym's teacher was the same, but Varida had a whole new classroom, and Yuri hadn't really had a chance to talk with her much about it. Not that it was anything but pulling teeth to figure out what they did at school all day, but at least he knew that Mr. Petit had a nice pink rug and read good stories.

Kaysm was getting better at the alphabet, and he could count up to a hundred now. Not to be outdone, Varida decided to defy all expectations and share what she'd learned about Kazakh history. Yuri mostly nodded his approval.

Varida brought out a carefully arranged plate of fruit and cheese after the meal. "They wanted to make you dessert," Otabek said, "but I told them not during the season."

All three of them fell on the fruit, as Otabek held back. He let them ravage the plate, then took a thin slice of cheese and said, "You know, you could ask Yuri how he's been doing."

That opened him to a ton of questions about where he'd been skating, how his rinkmates were, and if they were going to see everyone at the rink while Yuri was there.

"Do you remember Victor, and Yuuri Katsuki?" Otabek asked. "They're talking with some of the skaters at the rink, so you'll see them too."

"I remember," Varida announced. "Victor's tall, right?"

"And losing his hair," Yuri said.

"We don't say things like that," Otabek chided.

"It's true."

"We still don't say it."

"They'll be happy to see you," Otabek said. "They'll be impressed by how much you've grown."

"I'm better at skating too," Varida said.

"You both are."

Yuri took another strawberry. "Do you think Anton will have Victor choreograph for him?"

"I'm not sure," Otabek said. "Victor's a good choreographer. He should, but he's stubborn."

"Should I talk to him?"

"If you want Victor to choreograph for him? Probably."

"He is my competitor," Yuri said.

"You always want to compete against those doing their best," Otabek said, which was just as truthful as the _not really_ he'd probably wanted to say. He would probably be a competitor in a year or two, but by then Yuri might have retired.

"Maybe I should talk him into having you choreograph for him, then."

"I'm choreographing for you, remember?"

Yuri smiled at that.

"You didn't tell us that," Varida said accusingly, and that led to talking about choreography, and Kasym advocating for a program about puppies, which ended with Yuri showing Kasym and Varida Lambiel's cat routine on his phone while Otabek did the dishes.

He looked up from his phone when Otabek got back, and the thought hit him like a hammer. _This could be my life. This could be every day._ "You guys want to go to the park?" he asked. "Before it gets too dark?"

"We can walk you home after that," Otabek said.

"I might not be tired then," he said.

"They will be, and I know what you're like when you crash."

They got the kids into their jackets and down the stairs, and Kasym thought of at least five more things to tell Yuri by the time they reached the park, but two of their friends from school were on the swings, which meant that he and Otabek could hang back and talk.

"This okay?" Otabek said.

"Yeah," Yuri said. "It's good to be back."

"Good," he said.

"What did you tell Victor and Yuuri?"

"Nothing they hadn't already figured out," he said wryly. "I mean, it's good, I guess. They want...they want me to be happy or whatever."

"They love you."

"Yeah," Yuri said.

"I wanted to say it in person," Otabek said. "I know I haven't been...I've been distracted. And I have to put them first for now. But it doesn't mean I didn't—"

"Oh hey," said a familiar voice. "Yuri, right?"

It was Min-joon and his husband, and part of Yuri wanted to scream at them to fuck off, but the other half of him was relieved. He wasn't sure he was ready to have a serious conversation with Otabek, at least not until he'd had a night to rest. He wasn't scared, exactly. He just wanted to be on the top of his game before he started talking about the future or his feelings or any of that shit. He wanted—

Maybe this was why Otabek hadn't said anything. Wanting shit to be perfect could get to you.

Their kids blended in with the others, the way it usually happened at the park. "We've been following the season this year," Min-joon said, proudly. "It's been fun! I told Sung-ho we should go to an exhibition in the off-season."

"You should," Yuri said. "The local skaters here are really good. And maybe Beks will be back on the ice by then."

"Don't make promises," Otabek said, coolly.

"I'm not making promises."

"What about you?" Sung-ho asked. "Will we see you again this summer?"

"Probably," Yuri said. "I—no promises from me either, though."

"We haven't worked together in a long time," Otabek said. "But I'm choreographing for him again."

Yuri weaseled out of any more talk about skating by asking them how they were doing, and then there were updates on the kids, and then Otabek checked his watch and called the kids back to go to bed. The other couple used their departure as an excuse, and the four adults and three children walked together for a little while.

"We'll turn here to go to your hotel," Otabek said. "Have a good night!"

The kids had to hug goodbye to the point of stalling, but they managed to detach into two separate groups. Yuri's hotel was lit up, looking friendly. "All right," Otabek said.

"Say goodnight, you two."

Yuri got two giant hugs, and then a small, quick one from Otabek. "I love you," he said, into Yuri's ear.

"Goodnight," Yuri said, and he'd known, mostly, it was coming, but it still felt fucking huge, like his life had hit the brakes and turned a sharp left. Like nothing was the same as it had been before they'd walked out to the park.

"We'll see you tomorrow," Otabek said, slipping his hand into Kasym's. "Just text me when you're up."

They met at the rink, and Yuri was a little jet lagged and a lot sleep-deprived, but the one thing he'd always been good at was losing himself on the ice. Victor's program for him was mostly done, though they were still fighting over what the final combination needed to be, and the old man applauded like Katsudon himself had skated the thing just for him.

Varida had disappeared again, but Kasym applauded him, and Yuri gave him his own bow.

"It's close," Victor said. "It's so close. But you need to do the triple-triple, instead of—"

"I want the quad," Yuri snapped.

"It'd be more balanced with a triple-triple," Otabek said, the fucking traitor.

"I don't think it needs to be balanced."

"But that's what you're working toward at the end of the routine. Equilibrium. If you go with the triple-triple, you're maintaining that."

Victor looked smug. "Exactly."

Fuck them both. "This is why I don't work on this shit until it's the off-season," he muttered, and headed for the locker room.

There was a text from Beks when he got out of the shower. _Don't swear in front of Kasym._

Oh, fuck. Right.

Otabek was on the ice when he got back out, which saved him having to apologize, and Kaysm was off with his sister, doing whatever the fuck kids got up to at a rink when they weren’t skating. Yuuri came and sat next to him.

"You two doing dinner?"

"Nurdaulet has the kids, yeah."

"Maybe tomorrow we can all go out," Yuuri said.

"Yeah, they'd like that. There was a Korean place they were talking about, maybe we could do that. The kids—they pick up on stuff, you know? I think they kind of realize how far away from skating he got. That it wasn't good for him. They're always excited about his skating friends."

"Mmm," Yuuri said, thoughtfully. "He looks really strong now. Better than when he retired, don't you think?"

"Yeah." He couldn't hit the same jumps, but his artistry was there, and he was more focused.

"Katsudon?"

"Yeah?"

"You think it's true, that you skate better when you're...if you're in love?"

Every once in a while Katsudon would look at him completely seriously, his eyes steady and dark behind his glasses, and it always made Yuri feel a little uncomfortable. "You're skating better than you ever have," he said. "Can't you tell?"

He went for a run by himself after practice, and mostly didn't get lost. The city was getting familiar, or at least the parts Otabek inhabited; the rink, the school, the neighborhood. He stopped at a cafe and drank a cup of coffee while watching the people roll by. It felt like he was trying on another life. _This could be my routine. This could be home._

He took a couple of pictures for Insta, including one he tagged Phichit in of a pet store window where the hamsters had little dollhouse-style furniture in their cages, so they looked like fantasy animals instead of pets.

Victor was busy trying to talk Ali into an exhibition, so Yuuri ended up joining Yuri and Otabek at the park after that.

"This is nice," Yuuri said. "I can see why you come here a lot."

"Gets them out of Bek's hair for a while, too."

Yuuri didn't say anything. His eyes were on the kids. "How are you doing?"

"Fine," he said. "They were happy to see me, I guess. I had to read a lot of books. They like picking on my Kazakh."

"You had it easier in Hatsetsu. The girls were just impressed that you tried."

Otabek brought all three of them hot coffee, and he'd even remembered what Katsudon liked. Yuuri thanked him and drifted over by the swings, making it look like it wasn't deliberate.

"He's subtle," Otabek said. "I've always appreciated that."

"When he's not yelling at the top of his lungs," Yuri said.

Otabek laughed. "I can't remember if I told you, but Nurdaulet's got the kids tonight," he said. "You can't stay the night, because sometimes he takes them back early, but you can stay for a while."

"Okay," he said.

Otabek took another sip of his coffee. "I want to hold your hand," he said.

"Me too." He decided to risk it and leaned into Otabek's shoulder.

"This could be good," Otabek said, and took his hand.

 _I'm going to make it good,_ Yuri thought. _I'm going to make this work._

Yuuri excused himself to catch back up with the old man, and they let the kids play a little longer, until Otabek figured they were going to start getting hangry. Yuri walked back with Otabek and the kids, his muscles aching the good way, the rest of him buzzing with anticipation.

"Do you have to do anything else tonight?" Otabek said. "Do you have to check in with your grandfather, or—"

"I should," he said. "Would they like to talk to him, too?"

"You know how they feel about new people," Otabek said. "And they can practice their Russian. I don't make them do it enough."

 _And maybe they'd be family, someday._ "Cool," Yuri said.

Grandpa was thrilled to see Yuri, and Otabek, and meet Varida and Kaysm. He praised their Russian and answered all their questions about Moscow. No, he didn't have a cat, but his neighbors had one who came to see him every day and beg half a tin of tuna. He'd had a little dog when he was younger. Yes, Yuri had always liked cats best.

"I'm going to regret this, aren't I?" Yuri muttered, but Otabek just pressed his thigh against Yuri's as they squeezed together for the camera.

They talked to Grandpa for a while, and promised to call him again sometime, with or without Yuri. Otabek seemed pleased, and Yuri couldn't escape the lightness he felt.

 _Things are going well, I see,_ his grandfather texted.

_They like talking to you.  
_

_They are very sweet. Should I send them some cookies?  
_

_You don't have to do that.  
_

_But I like to bake cookies. I don't get much chance to make them for you, you have your diet plan to worry about.  
_

_You could probably bake them cookies. I'll send you what Kasym's allergic to.  
_

_Ah, yes. I can't make him sick <3  
_

_Thanks, Grandpa.  
_

_There's nothing to thank me for._

There was everything to thank him for, but Yuri knew better than to argue.

The kids started playing LEGO and tried to talk Yuri into it, but he lied and said that he had to catch up on emails. Otabek got suckered in, and was on his elbows on the floor building a high-rise when the knock came at the door.

Fuck. Yuri had almost forgotten about Nurdaulet.

"No," Varida said, and ran toward her bedroom.

Otabek looked up. "Can you—"

"Yeah," he said. "No problem."

Even knowing who it was going to be, something inside Yuri curled up and snarled when he saw Nurdaulet's face. When the breakup had happened, all he'd wanted to do was call him up and scream at him. Part of him still did. _How dare you. How fucking dare you treat him like this._ Now it'd turned into _how fucking dare you treat them like this._ It just made him angrier.

Nurdaulet looked about as happy to see Yuri as Yuri was happy to see Nurdaulet. "Are the children ready?"

"Not yet," he said. "Well. Kasym's ready. Varida's in her room with Otabek, they'll be right out." He stepped back so Nurdaulet could walk in, fighting the instinct to shut the door in his fucking stupid face.

"Otabek said you might be here," he said.

Yuri nodded.

"You're not here long."

"No," Yuri said. "My rinkmate was meeting with some skaters, he asked me if I wanted to come out."

"I didn't realize you liked Almaty so much."

He shrugged. He was _not_ going to let Nurdaulet bait him into a fucking fight, especially not when the kids were awake and Varida was already upset, and he sure as fuck wasn't about to start taking about anything serious. "It's nice to be back. And I know a lot of the local skaters now."

"Of course," he said. "They must appreciate having an older skater around."

Oh, if this asshole thought _that_ was going to bother him... "Well, of course Otabek's their hero. But it's always good to have other skaters to learn from. I guess writing's not as collaborative as that."

"Not usually, no."

What the fuck was Otabek _doing?_ He could come out with Varida any fucking second now. Having to make small talk with this asshole was going to fucking kill him.

They both stood around for another minute like assholes, and then a shriek came out from the bedroom. Yuri looked down and inspected his fingernails. Kaysm looked up at Yuri, concerned.

Well. Nurdaulet was certainly going to have noticed that. Great. "Maybe your dad should make sure everything's all right," he suggested, which would probably make things worse, but at least would get Nurdaulet out of this fucking room before Yuri murdered him.

Nurdaulet was halfway to the door when Otabek emerged, half-dragging Varida, now wearing a clean sweater and jeans, by the hand. "Now have a good time with Dad," he said, firmly, and Yuri suddenly had a bright vision of the argument that he'd just missed. "I'll be here when you get back, and Yuri's here tomorrow, too, so you'll see him in the morning, at the rink."

If looks could kill, Nurdaulet and Otabek would both be dead men. Yuri pretended to look at his phone.

"Say goodnight to Yuri," Otabek commanded, and the girl darted away from her fathers and in for a hug. Yuri squeezed her, and said, "go have fun. You too, Kasym."

Kasym had to get a hug too, but eventually they shoved both the kids out the door, and Nurdaulet was in a shitty mood by the time they pulled if off. "Are you gonna pay for that later?" he asked, when they'd thundered successfully down the stairs.

"Maybe," Otabek said. "I got her out the door, that's all he gets from me tonight." He looked at Yuri. "I'm just...tired of it all. Can we not talk about him?"

Yuri stepped closer. "Yeah," he said, and he thought he was going to be smooth, but he just locked up. It felt like they'd talked a lot, but not about this. They'd talked, tentatively, about the kids and the competition schedule and the compromises they might have to make, and nothing about being alone with each other, much less sex.

Otabek put his hand on Yuri's waist. "Good," he said. "This okay?"

"Yeah," Yuri said. "Fuck, come here."

Otabek kissed him, and Yuri's body got past his frozen brain and started giving orders. He slid his hands onto Otabek's back and down, on to Otabek's ass, and that felt good. That felt _so_ fucking good. He squeezed, and Otabek broke the kiss, bit at his lips, put a hand on the back of Yuri's head to kiss him again.

He hadn't been worried that they wouldn't be compatible. He hadn't let himself worry. But the kiss felt like triumph, like winning, like being at center ice and knowing you'd nailed the routine. It felt like home, like so much else did with Beks.

"I love you," Otabek said, breaking the kiss. "Yura, I—"

"I know," Yuri said. "It's okay. I love you so fucking much."

He was ready to go to the bedroom, but Otabek dropped to his knees instead, and he was too startled and turned on to do anything but let Otabek do what he wanted, which was apparently to pull Yuri's sweats down to his ankles and swallow him whole. Not that Yuri was complaining. Not that anyone would complain with a mouth like Otabek's at work. He closed his eyes and focused on staying upright. He wondered if Otabek liked his hair pulled. He'd ask later. Fuck. There was so much shit to ask.

He stroked Otabek's hair, passed a thumb over his cheek. Otabek moaned a little. It must have felt good, so Yuri did it again. His knees were getting shaky. His everything was getting shaky. He wanted to open his eyes, but he knew he'd fucking lose it when he did. Otabek's pretty eyes had always gotten him.

Otabek swallowed when Yuri came, and Yuri's knees didn't hold out much longer than when he pulled off. "Shit," he said, and Otabek fucking _caught_ him before he hit the floor, and then they were tangled together, kissing again, and Yuri hated tasting his own come but he liked kissing Otabek more. "What do you want?" Yuri asked. "I can suck you off. I can—"

Otabek just kissed him again, sliding his hands under Yuri's shirt. They must look so fucking stupid together, Yuri bareassed on the kitchen floor and Otabek still dressed, but Yuri didn't care and Otabek sure as fuck didn't seem to either. "I want everything," he said. "Everything."

Fuck, that went to his dick like he hadn't just come five minutes ago. He wasn't hard again yet, but he could feel it right around the corner. "Come on," he said. "Your bed or the guestroom?"

"Mine," he said, and the hunger in his voice wasn't exactly turning Yuri _off._ "You already jerked off in it."

"You told me to," he said.

"Sort of," Otabek said, but they stumbled to bed anyway, ditching the rest of Yuri's clothes and all of Otabek's on the way.

"You've got to tell me," Yuri insisted, as Otabek slid back on the bed and pulled Yuri down with him. "What you like."

"Try me," Otabek challenged, and that _asshole,_ he wasn't a mind reader.

"Are you kidding me?"

Otabek laughed, but there was an edge to it. "Please," he said. "I've spent the whole day telling people what to do. Try something."

"Fine," Yuri grumbled, but Otabek's dick was already drawing enough of his attention. He'd never been with a guy who was cut. It didn't look that different, really. Still a dick. Still hard enough that there was a bead of precome at the tip. "I'm not sure I can get it up again for—"

"I don't _care,"_ Otabek said, and it looked like it came out louder than he'd expected. 

Yeah. Okay. Fine. "Lube," Yuri said, and Otabek reached over to the bedside table and slid open a drawer. "I can finger you if—"

"Fuck," Otabek said. _Please."_

Yuri's hands weren't shaky, but they weren't exactly steady. The stupid lube had one of those flip-top caps, and the shit got _everywhere,_ over half his hand and dripping onto the bed, and Otabek was still _staring_ at him like he was fucking starving. "Okay," he said. "Don't let me hurt you."

"You won't," Otabek said. "You want me like this, or should I turn over—"

"Like this," he said. "Just spread your legs. If it doesn't feel good we'll...try something else."

"Don't stop," Otabek said, and opened his legs up.

Otabek was tight and hot and Yuri got lube fucking everywhere, but the way Otabek's eyes went wild when he pushed inside meant it didn't fucking matter, nothing mattered but this, Otabek breathing hard and his eyes locked on Yuri. Fuck, he looked good. Yuri wanted to do a lot more than this.

  
But this was good. This was enough for now, especially when Otabek moaned for him to get his free hand on Otabek's dick. He hardly had to jerk at all before Beks was spilling over his hand, adding to the absolute disaster they'd made of the sheets. "Tell me again," he said.

"I love you," Otabek said, and pulled him down so they could kiss again.

They kissed a while longer, before Otabek decided they should eat something. He was right, so they grabbed leftovers out of the fridge. "I wanted to take you somewhere," Otabek said.

"Fuck that, we'd have to put clothes on." He'd put his shorts back on, but that was mostly because his ass was getting cold. Otabek had on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, but he got colder faster.

"Next time," Otabek said. "Somewhere nice. We could go dancing."

He pulled Otabek close again. Fuck, it was nice to be able to do this whenever he wanted to. "Maybe," he said. "Maybe we can just stay here."  
Otabek put a knee between Yuri's, pushing his legs open. "Yeah," he said, his voice dipping.

They were both half-hard again. "Shit," Yuri said. "We need to eat."

"I know," Otabek said, sounding slightly disappointed. "Let's—" He kissed Yuri again instead, but eventually they sat down, inhaled the food, went back to bed.

He let Otabek ride him, his eyes half-lidded, cock bobbing above Yuri's stomach. When Yuri touched him he closed his eyes all the way and threw his head back, his whole body arching. He swept his thumb over Otabek's lips, and Otabek took it in, sucking hard, and Yuri's other hand picked up the pace.

"I was worried," Otabek said, when they were lying together, sticky, happy.

"Yeah?"

"What if we weren't...you know. What if we didn't like the same things."

"I think we're okay," he said.

"Yeah," Otabek said, kissing him again.

They half-dozed, half-cuddled for a while after that. Otabek kept stroking his hair.

"We could go get coffee, or something," Yuri said. He knew Otabek wouldn't want to go too far, but Bright Lights was only a couple of blocks away, and he was pretty sure they were still open. He knew they couldn't hold hands or anything, but it would still be good to be somewhere together. "Get some air or whatever."

"Yeah," Otabek said, and lazily reached over for his phone. "As long as—" He went still.

"Everything okay?"

"Fuck," Otabek said. "Get your clothes on."

"They're headed back?"

"Yeah—" Otabek was pulling his pants on without bothering with his underwear, which meant they were close. "I don't fucking know what he's pulling." He looked over at Yuri's hair. "Put your hair up, then you won't have to—"

"I'm on it," Yuri said. "You want the bathroom first?"

"Yeah," Otabek sighed.

So much for coffee. So much for sneaking back to his hotel in the wee hours of the morning. Yuri just hoped the kids were okay and he wouldn't punch Nurdaulet in the dick like he deserved.

He gathered up their discarded clothes and checked his hair in the bedroom mirror. It was fine, or close enough to fine. He could wash his hands in the sink. He was fully dressed. It was fine. What the fuck was it to that asshole, anyway? He'd fucking _left._ But the kids weren't ready to think about Yuri moving in, and who knows what crap that asshole would pull, and he just had to fucking suck up and play nice.

"What's wrong?" he said, when Otabek emerged.

"I don't know," he said. "He just said he was coming back." He grabbed his jeans and t-shirt from Yuri and slid them on, stuck his phone in his back pocket. "This is what I was wearing, right? I didn't have a necklace on or anything?"

"No."

"I didn't think so, but there was one on the bathroom sink." He passed his hand over his hair. "Do I look okay? You look okay."

"You look fine," he said. He got closer, so he could put his arms around Bek's waist. "No underwear in the living room or anything, I checked. I'm sorry."

"You sure you want this?" Otabek said, and Yuri could hear too many things in his voice. Anger. Embarrassment.

"I'm still in," he said. "Sorry. I'm not that easy to gt rid of."

Otabek leaned against him. "I wish this was easier."

"Yeah, well, it's not. Should we turn the TV on or something?"

"Sure."

"I'll make popcorn. Then I can be in the kitchen when they come."

"Coward," Otabek teased, but he kissed Yuri on the cheek and let him go.

Yuri found the popcorn, and Otabek had a weird microwave popcorn popper that it took him ten minutes to figure out, so that kept him distracted as he heard the door open and the kids come in. He tried not to listen to the voices, and it was harder to eavesdrop when everyone was speaking Kazakh. Even harder once the popcorn really got going. Then, of course, he was stuck with a fuckton of popcorn and Nurdaulet still talking out in the living room. He got out some bowls and counted out four. The kids weren't normally supposed to snack before bed, but at this rate he figured they'd have to peel them off the ceiling anyway. He carefully poured popcorn into the bowls, and at that point it was just stalling, but he melted butter in the microwave too.

By the time he'd started pouring in the melted butter, the door was closing. That was something.

"Hey, guys," he said. "Who wants popcorn?"

Varida’s eyes were red. Kasym looked like he'd seen a puppy get shot. So did Otabek, but he pulled out of it fast. "You made popcorn?"

"Yeah, remember, we were gonna have popcorn."

"Right," he said. "I guess we could all have some popcorn."

If it wasn't so fucking late he would have dragged everyone to the park, but that wasn't really a safe option and it was too damn dark. "Who wants to watch Masha and the Bear?"

"I like Masha and the Bear," Varida said, very cautiously.

"You get settled, I'll bring in the popcorn, okay?"

Otabek took Kasym's hand and walked him toward the couch. "Come on, Varida. Let's get it ready, so we can watch when we have our popcorn."

Otabek put one kid on each side of him to watch, which left Yuri in one of the armchairs, watching them as much as the cartoon. Kasym burrowed into his father's side; Varida stayed a few inches away. There were some things that Yuri wasn't allowed in. Maybe he never would be.

He had expected it, but he hadn't expected it to hurt. He stuffed enough popcorn into his mouth so that it looked like he was interested in eating and checked his phone.

_You guys awake?  
_

_I am,_ Yuuri answered. _Victor isn't.  
_

_Can I stop by?  
_

_Of course.  
_

_Tks_

Once the popcorn was gone, he said, "Okay, I'd better get back. You guys have a good night."

Varida leapt up for a hug, and he pulled her up into his arms for a second. "Kasym, wanna hug, or are you good?"

Kasym put his hand out for a low five. Yuri could work with that.

"You need—"

"I got a Lyft."

"You're sure?"

Yuri nodded. "Get some sleep, okay?"

"Okay," he said.

He had a text from Otabek when he got back to the hotel, but he couldn't look at it. Not yet.

Yuuri had the light on in the room when Yuri knocked. They'd gotten a suite, but even with the door closed Yuri could hear Victor snoring. "He okay?"

"Yeah. Too much to drink, that's all. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said. "I just...wasn't ready to crash yet, and Beks had to get the kids to bed."

It took Yuri a long time to appreciate that Yuuri would just listen to Yuri say something like that and not ask _I thought they were going to be at Nurdaulet's,_ or _you seem kind of upset for 'nothing.'_ "You want tea?"

"Yeah," he said. "Thanks."

He curled up with the cup Yuuri gave him and drank in silence. The snoring stopped after a while.

Yuuri got up after a while and poured himself another cup of tea, and offered Yuri another. He shook his head.

Victor came out. "What's wrong?" he said.

"We're having tea," Yuuri said.

Victor glanced over at Yuri and then back at his husband. "Is there any left?"

Yuuri nodded over at the pot, and Victor poured a cup and sat down next to Yuuri. He nuzzled Yuuri's neck.

"We didn't mean to wake you up."

"It's okay, I don't think you did. Maybe I just missed you."

Yuuri didn't quite roll his eyes.

"The petsitter sent us some pictures," Victor said. "Did you see?"

"Oh, not yet," Yuuri said, as Victor took his phone out of his pocket and showed Yuuri. "Aw, she's so cute."

"Do you want to see?" Victor offered.

"Sure," Yuri said, and the dog was cute, the dog was always cute, but it made him miss Potya and wonder all over again what the fuck he was doing in Almaty.

The text from Otabek said _I'm sorry. I miss you.  
_

_It's okay.  
_

_It's not. There's just not much I can do about it. He gets her so upset, and then she wants to come home. I thought it'd be better than that tonight, he hasn't seen them in a while. I should have known.  
_

_That's not your fault._

It was another minute before Otabek answered back. _I still miss you._

It was about that point that Yuri realized that Katsudon and the old man were watching him, though Victor was still probably at least half asleep on Yuuri's shoulder. "I should get to bed," he said. "But thanks for the tea."

"Any time, Yurio," Yuuri said brightly, as Victor gave him a sleepy wave.

 _Can you talk?_ Yuri asked, as he walked out into the hallway. It felt too bright; Yuuri had only had a lamp on.

_Yeah, they're asleep.  
_

_Give me a second._ It didn't take long to get into his own room and unlock the door. He pushed the talk button.

"Hi," Otabek said. "You okay?"

"I'm okay," he said. "She's all right?"

"They're all right. They may act out in the morning, but they’ve done it before. They’ll be at school by the time they’re too awake."

"I want to be there," he said. "I'm sorry. I know it would probably just fuck things up more. I know you have to be careful. I want—" He threw his key down on the dresser, hearing the slap as the card hit the veneer. "I just fucking hate this."

"I do too," Otabek said.

"I know it's harder for you. It's—"

"I don't care who it's harder for," Otabek said, and Yuri heard the anger in his voice. "It sucks. I hate it. I fucking hate that you're alone in a hotel toom instead of _here."_

"Fuck, Otabek. I don't know what to say. Anything I say is just going to make us both feel like shit."

He could hear Otabek's breathing on the phone, hard, angry, then slower. "Tell me you love me. That won't make me feel like shit."

"I fucking love you, Otabek Altin. I love Kasym and Varida. I love this city. I love you. I wouldn't love any of the rest of it if I didn't love you. Okay?"

"Okay." Another long, rough pause. "I looked at moving to St. Petersburg."

"What?!"

"We can't," he said. "Not right now. And I knew that. But...I looked. This is serious, for me. I know I'm more careful. And I don't say as much. But I mean it. I've always meant what I said to you."

"I know," he said. Otabek _loved_ Almaty. He'd talked about how happy he was to be back home for years. He fucking lit up when he had the chance to talk about his city. His whole life was there. His kids were—

Yuri sat down.

"I don't want to ask you to wait," Otabek said. "But I don't think I have any choice."

 _Georgi knows people_ crossed Yuri's mind, but it wasn't even a good joke. The last thing Otabek's family needed was more chaos.

"Yura?"

"I want them to come up to Moscow sometime, though. When you can."

"Of course. I want them to. I want—" He sighed. "I wish I could just change this. I wish—"

"Hey," Yuri said. "Me too. I know it sucks. I miss you. But it's not forever." _Probably._

Otabek was silent. Probably thinking the same thing.

"Hey, the old man wanted us to all do dinner tomorrow. Can you get the kids?"

"Yeah. That'd be nice."

"They've missed you. I mean. We all have. The circuit's not the same without you."

"It was always going to change."

"It's better with you around," Yuri said. "We're gonna prove it next season."

"See, things like that. That's why I love you. You won't let anyone take you from your path. You never stop fighting."

"Sometimes that bites me in the ass."

"I know. But you still don't give up."

He sat down on the bed. "You don't need to flatter me."

"I don't," Otabek said.

Yuri closed his eyes. "You undressed yet?"

"I"m not having phone sex with you."

"Just tell me. I want to know what you're doing. Okay?"

"I'm undressed. Back in the track pants I was wearing earlier."

"In bed?"

"I'm in the kitchen still. I've got tea. I don't trust them to be asleep yet."

"I want...shit. I want to pretend I'm waiting for you."

"In bed?"

"Yeah. That I'm in your room, and we're not...things aren't fucked up like this. That I'm there, waiting for you to finish your tea."

"I'd like that," Otabek said.

"You wanna be the big spoon or the little one?"

It took Otabek a second. "Little," he said. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah," Yuri said. He'd mostly been kidding, but having Otabek say it made it feel real. "That's good."

"You should get some sleep," Otabek said.

"You should too."

"I'll try it if you will."

"Okay," Yuri said. "But don't keep sitting at the kitchen table. Go to bed."

"Yeah, yeah," Otabek said, and he heard the kitchen chair scrape against the tile. "I miss you."

"I miss you too."

Otabek skated last at practice the next day.

Victor sighed about halfway through the routine, the sigh of happiness when he was watching something special.

"You booked him yet?"

"He's still trying to outbid Phichit-kun," Yuuri said.

"Don't be cheap," Yuri chided. Yuuri snorted into his tea.

"Neither of us are being cheap," Victor said. "At this rate, I'm trying not to go bankrupt."

"He's got two kids to take care of."

"It's much more lyrical now, don't you think?" Yuuri asked. "Look at how he goes into that layback spin."

"You can see the whole story," Victor said. "But he's always been extraordinary. Like the two of you."

Yuuri smiled at him. Flattery always worked on him.

Otabek finished, and they waved to him from the boards.

"Where are we meeting for dinner?" Yuuri asked.

"Bek's apartment, maybe? It'll be easier if we only have to get them around once."

"Makes sense. We'll see you there, then?"

"Thanks," Yuri said.

"I love Korean food," Yuuri said. "It'll be fun."

Varida was still a little on edge when they got back to the apartment, but she was happy to see Yuri, and she seemed excited about going out for barbecue. Kasym was just happy to see new people. Otabek had already packed a backpack with books and shit to keep the kids occupied if they had to wait.

"I like this neighborhood," Yuuri said, as they got closer to the restaurant.

"It's nice," Otabek said. "We can walk to a lot of things. I missed that a lot when I was in the US."

Yuuri nodded. "We were pretty lucky, we were in a good part of Detroit where we could walk. And St. Petersburg is pretty nice. But I think this is easier with kids, at least compared to where we are now."

"The rink manager has kids, right? And Georgi."

"Sergi’s kids are older. And nothing's as hard as Georgi says it is."

"That's true," Victor agreed. "But I think my Yuuri's right. This is a nice place for a family."

"I didn't grow up that far from here," Otabek said. "I have a lot of good memories. And the school's good."

"School's fun," Kasym agreed.

"That's cause all you have to do is baby stuff."

Otabek shot his daughter a look, which she ignored. Fortunately, Kasym was too busy watching his bulgogi smoke on the grill to rise to the bait.

"How's Yuri's EX coming along?"

"We've got ideas," Otabek said. "I think we're getting closer. I want to make it all look coherent, even if there are three choreographers."

"I'm really excited to see what you'll come up with," Victor said. "It's going to be fun having you working again."

"Yeah."

"Will we get to see what you do?" Varida asked.

"Of course. You'll be able to see Yuri's routine next season. And you can see me skate in exhibitions again."

"For me," Victor said.

Otabek smiled. "Maybe. Phichit really would like to have me exclusively this summer, and it'd be easier on—"

Victor clapped his hands over his ears. "I won't hear anything about it. You can't do this to me at dinner!"

Yuri laughed. "Up your bid, then, old man."

Yuuri asked Kasym and Varida about what they were studying in dance class, and that kept them all distracted for a minute. The food was good, and the kids mostly behaved, and when they got antsy after eating Yuri put Kasym on his hip and took Varida by the hand and took them out for a walk on the sidewalk outside the restaurant. It was getting cold, but they didn't seem bothered. He let them look in the windows of the jewelry store down the street. "I like the rings," Kasym said, because that kid knew exactly how to make shit awkward.

"Which ones?" Yuri said. There was a stack of engagement rings near the back, simple ones mostly. Yuri wondered if they were even real, or just pretty fake ones for the windows.

"I like this one best," Kasym said, and pointed at a big, chunky gold ring that didn't look like anything anyone would wear to a wedding. Thank fuck.

"I used to have one kind of like that," Yuri said.

"What happened to it?"

"I wore it in the shower and it turned green," he said. "It wasn't real gold. What do you like, Varida?"

She shrugged.

"You want to go to the next store?"

She nodded.

"Okay, I think this one's a clothes place—"

"Dad!" Kasym cried, and Yuri felt his spine lock up. Varida’s fingers tightened on his.

Yuri had spent his whole fucking career acting like nothing bothered him. "Oh, hi," he said pleasantly. _There's a whole fucking city here, so of course you have to show up._ He put Kasym down so he could run to Nurdaulet. "They got tired of waiting for the check, so we were taking a walk."

Varida pressed into his side. Shit. He hoped Otabek wasn't going to have to pay for this later. He hoped Varida wouldn’t either. Yuri couldn't fucking control the way the kids treated him. Most of it was novelty value anyway, he wasn't that naive.

"We?" Nurdaulet asked.

"We all went to dinner together!" Kasym said, which wasn't the answer Nurdaulet was fishing for, but was, technically, an honest answer. "I had bibimap."

"That's your favorite," Nurdaulet said. "What about you, Varida?"

"We all had bibmap," she said, her voice quiet and sullen. "And they had pork belly, but we don't eat pork belly."

"That's right," he said, and Yuri resisted the urge to snap _fuck you, we'll eat what we want._ "Who's they?"

"Yuri's friends," she muttered.

"Business dinner," Yuri said. "We're leaving tomorrow, so we thought we should have a meal together before we skipped town."

"Of course," Nurdaulet said, and Yuri didn't trust how fucking understanding he was pretending to be. "I didn't realize you were going back so soon."

"Season's not over yet."

"He's got to win Worlds, first," Varida said.

"Someone else might win Worlds," Yuri lied.

Varida shook her head.

"I guess I'll have to win, with you two cheering me on."

"I didn't think it worked like that," Nurdaulet said, and there was the insult, just below the surface, waiting.

"My coach keeps telling me it does. 'Yurochka, you have to finish that quad. Think of your fans. Think of your grandfather.' The more people you have cheering you on, the more he expects you to be perfect." Varida was too still. He didn't like it.

"Someone told me he was going to retire after this season."

"Yakov? Someone says he's going to retire every season." He shrugged. "He'll retire when he's ready."

"And you?"

"Same, I guess." Pretending like he didn't give a shit was exhausting. But he couldn't talk about retiring in front of Varida. She was old enough that she might pick up on what _retired_ might mean, and either get her hopes up or get upset. "Right now, it's just working to finish the season strong." He glanced over at the restaurant. What were they goddamn doing? Fuck, he was ready to run in and throw his credit card at someone. "How's your book doing?"

"Well," he said. "I'm surprised you remembered I had a recent release. Though Kasym said your Kazakh is getting better."

Yuri shrugged. "I guess. I was surprised they hadn't translated your book already, actually, they did the last one, right?"

"This is more of a Kazakh story," he said. "There was a lot of interest in North America and Western Europe, which was gratifying. There's...more vision, there, I guess."

"Vision," Yuri said, because it was that or _are you fucking kidding me._

"Russia's nice," Varida said, and she was too young to be this good at picking fights.

"So are North America and Europe," Yuri said. "Leo lives in the States, remember?"

She nodded. "We went there once, with Papa and Daddy."

"Yurio!" Victor called, and Yuri had never been so fucking happy to hear that stupid nickname in his _life._ "Sorry, I had trouble with my card—oh, hello, Nurdaulet, isn't it?" The old man held out his hand like the two of them were great friends.

Nurdaulet, confused, shook it.

"We need to get them home," Otabek said. "It's going to get dark."

"Yuri said I could see the dresses," Varida said sullenly.

"I did," Yuri said. "Kasym wanted to see the jewelry and I told her—"

Otabek scooped her up. "Okay, we'll do that, but then we have to go. Say goodnight to your father."

Varida muttered something Yuri assumed was a goodnight. Victor had somehow extricated Kasym from Nurdaulet and was urging him to say goodnight, too. Nurdaulet looked a little like he wasn't sure what had just happened. Fine. Fuck him. Victor's charm offensive was the least of what that asshole deserved.

Varida calmed down a little bit, between being carried by Otabek and getting to finally see the shop window she wanted. Kasym seemed happy enough with Victor. Katsudon stayed a few steps behind with Yuri.

"I still don't like him," Yuuri said, as the kids chattered at the shop widow.

"Me neither. He said some shit about Russians not having ‘vision’ or whatever the fuck."

"Oh, his book?" Yuuri smiled. "That's an interesting story, actually—"

"Not now, love," Victor said, offhandedly.

It was only after the kids had gone to bed and Otabek and Victor were talking through the ice show for what felt like the thousandth time that Yuuri filled him in.

"Apparently," he said, "they thought the book would sell well because it's very critical of Russia, but the problem is that it's not a very good book."

"Oh," Yuri said.

"I shouldn't—Victor says I hold grudges."

Victor was fucking right, not that he was one to talk. "I wouldn't have thought about looking at his books. I try not to stalk him too much."

"Varida was relying on you," Yuuri said. "I know he saw it. Tell Otabek to be careful."

"He is," Yuri said. "He's so fucking careful."

"I'm sorry, Yurio."

"I'm just pissed."

"Yeah," Yuuri said.

"I can't believe you fucking looked up his book."

Yuuri just smiled.

On the ride to the airport, Victor, for reasons known only to Victor, decided to tell Yuri about the time a blogger in Detroit implied that Phichit had bribed a judge and Yuuri followed his career, hoping to watch him fail, for the next six years. "I think he's a banker now."

"A bank clerk," Yuuri said, half-asleep in the seat behind them. "Like, um—" He waved his hand "Cashier."

"My Yuuri is very loyal," Victor said, with his usual mix of affection and pride.

"Yeah," Yuri said.


	5. Don't Look at It Like It's Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Worlds.

He went back to work. He called Otabek most nights, but with Worlds so close he didn't have much time. Otabek sent pictures and inspirational quotes and messages from the kids. _I miss you._

_I'm taking gold. And I'll bring it back to you._

Yakov told him he had to keep discipline. Lilia told him to keep putting his heart and soul into his performances. Victor and Yuuri just cheered him on like a pair of idiots.

He hugged his stupid stuffed cats every night before bed, and told Potya to grow up when he looked jealous.

Mikhail wouldn't stop fucking babbling on the plane. Yuri knew it was his first Worlds, but by the time they landed he wanted to lock himself in his room and not come out for a thousand fucking years. Yuri didn’t know how his Pairs partner stood it.

"Yurio, come on!" Victor called, gesturing him over once they were free of the disembarking crowd. "I want to show you something!"

Even Victor would talk less than Mikhail, so Yuri threw his bag over his shoulder and headed Victor's way. "What?"

There was a big poster, up near the ceiling, one of those ones that spanned the whole width of their section. _Boston Welcomes Champions,_ with photos of the Worlds champions for the past five years. Katsudon, Mila, the Korean girl whose name he always forgot, Yuri, Phichit. Otabek, two years before he retired. "Shit," Yuri said.

"I thought you'd like it."

"I don't like that picture of me," Yuuri said, suddenly over Yuri's shoulder.'

"No one cares, Pig." He'd beaten Yuri by _three points_ that year.

"The next one is pairs and ice dancers," Victor said. "We should get a picture!"

"I should get one for Phichit-kun," Yuuri said. "I don't know if he'll come through this way. And I think he's bringing his family, so he might not have a chance to stop and look at it."

"We can get a selfie!" Victor said cheerfully, and Yuri used the distraction to ditch them. He checked his phone when he got on the moving sidewalk; it was too crowded to try to outwalk it.

Otabek had put up a photo on his Insta of—

The poster. The poster in the airport. Otabek and his kids standing below the fucking poster _in the airport._

What the _fuck.  
_

_WHAT THE FUCK ALTIN.  
_

_Surprise.  
_

_Where are you? What the fuck are you doing here?_

Otabek sent back a photo. He was standing outside the hotel, waving, with Leo. And—

_HOW.  
_

_Nurdaulet is doing more readings in Nur-Sultan. He couldn't take the children with him, so we're going to enjoy Worlds together. Leo's sister took the picture, we're hoping to hire her as our au pair when she graduates._

What the fuck. What the _fuck._ Yuri was going to kill him. Murder him.

"You seem happy," Yuuri said, as they caught up with him at the luggage carousel.

Fuck. He sounded smug. "You knew? You fucking knew?!"

"He wasn't sure, right up until today," Yuuri said. "I told you that book wasn't selling well."

Yuri was going to murder them all. "This fucking luggage better start moving," he grumbled.

He didn't even look at his room, just threw his shit in. Yakov could move it if he didn't like it. The elevators were full, so he took the stairs up to Otabek's room. A girl opened the door who had to be Leo's sister; she had a similar build and similar smile, though her hair was dyed hot pink. "Hey," she said, reaching out her hand. "I'm Sofia."

"Yuri," Yuri said, and that was about when Varida cannonballed into his leg.

"Careful," Otabek said, "he has to skate—"

"She's okay," Yuri said, and he'd grabbed Varida so quickly poor Sofia was left with her hand hanging in the air. "Where's Kasym?"

"Crashed already," Sofia said, stepping back and letting Yuri in. She clearly had Leo's easygoing nature, too. "Come on, Varida, let Yuri walk, okay?"

"She's all right," Yuri said. "She's not that heavy yet. But you've grown some, huh?"

She nodded. "I can reach the top of the bookshelf now."

"Without the stool?"

Another nod.

"How's your dancing coming?"

She shrugged.

Once he was through the door he could see Otabek, and Kasym asleep on one of the motel beds, and fuck, it felt so good it hurt a little. "I can't stay that long, I've got to...I can't _believe_ you didn't tell me."

"I just told them this morning," he said. "Well, not Sofia."

"I'm just glad it was the same weekend as break." She sat down on the empty mattress. "This way I get a chance to meet you all, instead of just flying off to Almaty."

"You'll like Almaty," Yuri said.

"I was there once with Leo, when I was...it was in middle school, when Otabek moved back. I really liked it then."

 _When Otabek moved back_ was just before they'd met. Shit. That was a lifetime ago.

"What's your schedule?" Otabek said. "We don't want to be in your way."

"You won't be," Yuri said. "Yakov won't be in until later. Lilia's not coming this year." He didn't love that reminder of how she was aging, but there was nothing he could do about it. At least she and Potya could keep each other company.

Phichit had brought his nanny, Kokkorn, and she and Sofia seemed to have an instant connection. It worked out well, because the kids packed up instantly. Some of it was probably just the novelty of having other little kids to hang out with, but it was still pretty cool to watch them teaching each other Kazakh and Thai and sharing their toys and stuffed animals. Kokkorn seemed to have a sixth sense for when they were about to fight and exactly how to intervene. “I’m taking notes,” Sofia said to Yuri at one point.

“Yeah, we all should.”

“Good luck with your short,” she said. “We’ll all cheer you on.”

“Leo, too.”

“Of course, Leo too,” she said. “But you’re getting silver, right?”

He flipped her off, and she laughed. Leo’s sister, all right.

The second he stepped onto the ice for the short he knew he had it. Some routines just felt right, and this was one of them. Later, at the banquet, someone would ask him if having the kids and Otabek there helped, and they did, kind of, but they weren't on his mind as he skated the program. The program was what it was, solid and beautiful, and most of the time these days he felt every jump, but not this time. His mind was clear as crystal. Everything worked.

Leo was still flawless, perfect. Even Yuri was forced to admit how good he looked, and he nailed every quad, landing without a wobble. The crowd went crazy when he finished, and Yuri noticed even Kasym and Varida were screaming Leo's name. It was good. It was beautiful. It was going to be close.

They were supposed to all meet down in the lobby for dinner—the hotel, for once, had a restaurant with a menu that satisfied Yakov—so he went down and waited by the elevators. Mila and Yakov would show up exactly on time, and the old man and Katsudon would be five minutes late, ten if they got distracted making out. Ivan and Lena were too new for Yuri to have a good handle on them. He hadn't paid that much attention to them, anyway. He'd started understanding how Victor got so absentminded.

He was half-looking through the tourist brochures when one of Phichit's kids came running, with Phichit's nanny—what was her name again?—thundering after her. She said something in Thai, in a tone that reminded Yuri of Lilia at her most unyielding.

The kid skidded to a stop just short of Yuri's knees. Yuri's whole skating career flashed before his eyes for a second, but he suppressed his first instinct to yell his head off and looked down at the kid instead. He'd learned staring from the best, after all.

"Hey," Yuri said, as their eyes met. "I think she wants you."

She nodded.

"You want me to walk back with you?"

A second nod.

"Yeah, okay." He held out his hand, and the kid took it. Shit, Yuri couldn't remember her name either. "Why were you running away?"

A shrug. Pretty much the answer Yuri had expected.

"Thank you," the nanny said. Kokkorn, that was her name. She was thin and pretty, with long dark hair she usually kept in a ponytail. Yuri had liked her when they’d met after the ice show. "They move fast."

"I remember," Yuri said. "No problem." He handed the kid off, and that was that.

After dinner, Victor suggested the pool—"It always kept my muscles from knotting up"—and that wasn't a bad idea. Yuri figured it might keep his mind from looping between the free skate to Otabek and back again.

Phichit came down to swim too, and he and Yuuri settled in the hot tub for the long term while Yuri got a few laps in. He knew he couldn't get overtired, but it felt nice to be in the water. He dried off and decided to sit by the pool for a while. Victor was already half-napping in one of the vinyl lounge chairs. He was scrolling through his phone when Yuuri and Phichit finally got out of the water and made their way to the chairs.

"He's always been good with children," Yuuri was saying, as he sat between Yuri and Victor.

"Who?" Yuri demanded.

"We were talking about you," Yuuri said, sweetly, and how that asshole could look so goddamn innocent was a mystery Yuri would probably never solve.

"It's not—it's not a big deal." They always made such a production out of shit. It was annoying. "Shit, I want coffee."

"There's a Starbucks," Yuuri said. "If they're still open."

"You want anything?"

Yuuri and Phichit both shook their heads.

He was waiting in line when he got the text from Otabek. _Where r u?  
_

_Getting coffee._

_My children have abandoned me for Phichit's. I'm coming down._

_Meet me at the lounge thing by the pool, then._

Otabek had his glasses on, and a big cabled grandpa sweater he'd had since they both were teenagers. He hovered by Yuri's lounge chair for a minute, until Yuri shoved over a little and said, "Come on."

There weren't many people around—Phichit had even disappeared—and they knew everyone there, which was probably why Otabek nodded and dropped down next to him, arm against arm.

"Otabek-kun," Yuuri said, brightly. "Alone for once?"

Victor was fully awake now, his head visible over Yuuri's shoulder. He seemed annoyingly happy.

"They're in Phichit's room. He promised me he'd pay Kokkorn extra, so—" He shrugged. "It's good for them to play with other kids. Gets some of their energy out."

Yuri was hyper-aware of how close Otabek was, of how warm his arm felt. Of how _right_ it felt to be with him. Like they were a normal couple, having a normal night. As normal as it got at Worlds, anyway. "I'm surprised you don't have them in bed by now."

"I'm trying to head off jet lag," he said. "I know I'm just lying to myself, but..."

"Phichit-kun does the same thing," Yuuri said.

"So you're in good company!" Victor added brightly. They were so fucking smug about Otabek being there. Annoying.

They heard the children come before they saw any of them. It sounded like a herd of approaching elephants, and looked pretty much like one too, with Sofia bringing up the rear. She looked completely unruffled. Yuri was impressed in spite of himself.

All five of them crowded in on Otabek. It was obvious they wanted _something,_ Yuri just didn't know what.

"Did you have something to say?" Otabek asked, once the staring had gotten irritating.

The kids looked at each other, their confidence gone. Finally, Varida spoke up, the words coming higher and faster than usual. "Phichit and Kokkorn and Sofia all say it's okay so could we maybe please stay with Neang and Anchali and Sombat?"

Otabek blinked for a second, mentally separating the words. "You mean stay the night in Phichit's suite?"

She nodded. The other kids, empowered by the broken silence, all chorused in with various explanations and clarifications. _He says it's okay_ came up a lot, as did _Sofia likes us._

"All right," Otabek said, finally, holding his hand up for silence, or at least less noise. "I'll talk to Phichit. No promises, all right?"

That was accepted, somewhat reluctantly.

"I might need to go up with you," Sofia said. She'd grabbed Phichit's youngest and had the girl balanced on her hip. "I think someone needs a diaper change."

"Yuri," Otabek said. "Can you—"

"Yeah," he said, getting up. "Come on, you guys want to go look at the fish?"

Once Sombat had said yes, the rest of them were in, and he took Kasym's hand while they all walked to the elevator.

They passed Leo and Guang-Hong in the lobby. Leo waved, big and enthusiastic, and Guang-Hong waved too. It was only when they were in front of the hotel's massive fish tank that Yuri wondered if they'd been holding hands or he'd imagined it.

After one loud threat of going right back up to the hotel room again—by the _stairs_ —they stopped trying to tap on the glass and settled for talking about the fishes' pretty colors, and the funny ways some of them swam, and the weird sucker mouths on the ones that cleaned the sides of the tank. They were starting to get overexcited when Yuri got the text from Otabek.

_Where are you?_

_Down watching the fish._

_Sofia's coming down. You're sharing with Yakov, right?_

Why did that matter? _Yeah._

_Probably easier if we're in my room anyway._

Oh, shit. That was right. If Kasym and Varida stayed with Phichit's kids—and Phichit had a suite, so it wouldn't make sense the other way around—that would mean Otabek had his room to himself.

Shit.

He was still staring at his phone screen when Kasym tugged on his pantleg and told him he had to use the toilet.

He managed to get Kasym to hold it until Sofia came down, so she could manage the others. When they came back, Sofia had them pretty well ready to go up the elevator. "We're going to stop at Varida and Kasym's room, so they can get their things, all right? And then we'll all go back together."

"What about Yuri?"  
  
"Yeah, can Yuri stay with us?"

"Yuri has to skate tomorrow," Sofia said. "He needs his rest."

A chorus of complaints.

"I'll see you all tomorrow," he said. "And you'll see me skate. Sofia's staying with you, right? And Phichit and Kokkorn."

There was still some grumbling, but it was quieter, and that was good enough for Yuri. "I'll walk you to the room too, all right?"

Varida grabbed his hand. That was a yes, he assumed. "Come on."

It took them forever to get out of Phichit's suite, between the kids insisting they'd forgotten something and the demands for extra hugs. Eventually, though, the kids were safely installed with Sofia and Kokkorn, playing some kind of elaborate game with dolls.

"Thank you," Yuri heard Otabek murmur to Phichit.

"They'll act better with your kids here, anyway," Phichit said. "It's the novelty. Don't worry about it, okay? We'll see you in the morning." He glanced back, making sure the kids were occupied. "Just don't keep Yuri up too late." He winked, broadly. Otabek took Yuri by the shoulder and pulled him backward before Yuri could start complaining.

"I can't fucking believe—"

"He's giving us the night alone," Otabek said, as firm as a rock. "You will not say a _single word."_  
Yuri sighed. "Fine."  
It was hard to not touch Otabek in the elevator, and by the time Otabek got to the door Yuri was aching.

"I wanted to touch you all night," Otabek said, like he'd pulled the words out of Yuri's brain, and then his mouth was on Yuri's and Yuri couldn't even remember why he'd been annoyed at anyone at all. Otabek locked the door one-handed, and then he took Yuri by the back of the head to kiss him better. Shit. Something about when Otabek did that made Yuri feel—some bullshit. Yuri didn't know what, exactly. But good.

Yuri's hands had been stuck on Otabek's waist, but after a minute or two of kissing he caught up and let them sink lower, cupping Otabek's ass and squeezing. Shit. It felt better than he remembered. Otabek felt amazing, smelled amazing. Yuri's heart was pounding, and he could feel the pulse right down in his dick. Fuck, it was good. Still new, but everything about Otabek was familiar, too. Like home.

He pulled Otabek up, Otabek's legs straddlng him, and Otabek's bed wasn't that far, but it still took too fucking long, and they both still had all their clothes on, and Otabek insisted on pulling the stupid duvet off because it wasn't cleaned regularly or some other old man bullshit, and it all took _too fucking long._

"Yura," he said. "Slow down."

"I waited too fucking long to slow down," he said, pulling his shirt over his head.

Otabek stopped his hands.

Yuri looked at him. "What?"

  
"I don't know when I'll have this again," he said. "Please."

Well, shit, that was probably the only thing Otabek could've said to slow him down, but it sure as fuck worked. He started pulling his shirt off again, but this time he was slower, more careful. He kept his eyes on Otabek's. "Okay," he said.

"Come here," Otabek said, and his eyes were so fucking intense. He'd always looked right into Yuri.

Otabek's arms wrapped around him, and this time Yuri found the nape of Otabek's neck. He bit at the skin a little, and Otabek groaned. That worked. He bit harder, and Otabek's knees softened enough that they both landed on the bed.

"No marks," Otabek said, low, and Yuri licked where he'd bitten and felt Otabek shudder.

Otabek's back was on the mattress, and his shirt was off, so Yuri straddled him and started licking and biting his way down. Not hard enough to leave a mark, but enough to be felt. Otabek's hands reached up and tangled in his hair. Fuck. Yuri hadn't realized how much he'd like that.

"That's good?"

"Yeah," Yuri said, his voice sounding weird, rough. "Do that."

Otabek had a belt, that was easy enough to get off, and then his beautiful, perfect prick was out, hard, jerking a little when Yuri licked it. Otabek didn't try to hide his reactions or any bullshit like that, which made it better, easier to know what got him started, what didn't work. He liked it when Yuri teased the tip of his cock, soft and light, with his tongue, and Yuri did it until Otabek was visibly holding his hips down. Then he just took Beks in.

Otabek gasped, louder than Yuri had expected, and one hand rested on Yuri's shoulder and squeezed.  
  
Yuri kept going, taking as much of Otabek in as he could, sucking hard. He'd thought Otabek would be less sensitive, but Otabek seemed plenty sensitive every time Yuri changed the pressure or moved his tongue. One of Otabek's hands was just above his right ear, still in his hair, like it was where it belonged.  
  
He thought he was going to fucking lose it when Otabek came in his mouth, but he held on, digging his fingers into his palms and willing himself to think about the ice, about tomorrow, anything but the way Otabek felt, the way he tasted.  
  
And then Otabek said, "What do you want?" and lit Yuri on fire all over again.  
  
"On your side," he said. He wanted everything, but he knew he needed to sleep. Yakov would probably give him hell for not sleeping in his room anyway. "Take the rest of your clothes off, shit."  
  
He'd already managed to get most of his things off, and he pulled his own shirt over his head while Otabek stripped the rest of the way down. He put a hand on Otabek's hip to steady himself and moved closer. "Okay?"  
  
Otabek tipped his head back against Yuri's shoulder. "Make me come again."  
  
Oh, _fuck._ "Yeah," he said. "I can do that." He bit at Otabek's shoulder again, and slid his cock between Otabek's ass cheeks as he wiggled against Yuri. Yuri kept his hand on Otabek's hip, slid closer, and that felt good. He was already slick with precome, and Otabek pushed back against him as Yuri thrust his hips forward. He'd wanted this so much, for so long. He wasn't sure he was ever going to be tired of it.  
  
Otabek was hard again by the time Yuri came, and Yuri jerked him off, slow and easy, licking the back of Otabek's ear, biting a little. "Talk to me," he said, and Otabek launched into Kazakh, too fast and low for Yuri to keep up, not that it mattered. Hearing him was enough. Having him skin to skin, not a voice in his fucking earbuds, was enough.  
  
He came faster than Yuri had expected, and there was going to be a wet spot on the sheets, and Otabek turned around and pulled Yuri close and nothing else mattered at all. They kissed for a while longer, before Otabek said, "I don't know when you need to go back—"  
  
"I'm—I wasn't," he said. "If you—"  
  
"I know you have to skate," Otabek said, pushing his hair back. "And Yakov—"  
  
"I'll sleep better here," Yuri said.  
  
Otabek's thumb stroked Yuri's cheek. "You've never slept with me."  
  
"If I go back, I'll just want to be here."  
  
"If you're sure—"  
  
"I'll sneak out if I can't sleep. All right?"  
  
Otabek pressed his forehead to Yuri's for a second. "I want you to win."  
  
"Then let me stay, dumbass."  
  
He sighed. "Fine."  
  
"If you don't want—"  
  
"I want you here so much," he said. "Let's clean up. I'm not going to have Yakov yelling at me if I can help it."  
  
"I'm going to kill it tomorrow," he said. "Don't worry."  
  
He smiled as he got out of bed. "Otherwise you'll disappoint my children."  
  
"Never," Yuri said, and he didn't realize until the words were out of his mouth that it would sound like a promise.

He woke up with Otabek pressed against his chest. It felt _right,_ like they fit together, the same way it had the night before. His alarm hadn't gone off yet, but he knew he wasn't going to fall back asleep, so he took his phone off airplane mode and scrolled through the angry texts from Yakov. Nothing from Phichit, who'd promised to text them both when the kids were up. That was all right. Otabek could sleep a while longer.  
  
He was awake, watching Yuri, when Yuri looked over at the bed. "Morning," he said, and Yuri wanted to climb back into bed more than anything else on the planet.  
  
"Hey," he said, instead. He sat on the side of the bed and kissed Otabek good morning.  
  
"No one's awake yet but us," Yuri said, when they broke apart. "I'll go in a minute, but—"  
  
Otabek just grabbed him again, kissed him. That was better. Fuck, that was good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on this chapter! We experienced technical difficulties.


	6. Living Like Lovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri makes some decisions. So does Otabek.
> 
> Oh, and there's the free skate to think about. And Nurdaulet's still got some things to say...

Yakov was waiting or him when he got back into the room, and that was when he realized he was still wearing last night's clothes; not that Yakov would care, but the hotel was always crawling with reporters. Fuck. He couldn't be sloppy now.

"You are going to be flawless today," Yakov said, and left it at that.

Phichit had texted. _Kasym and Varida are up. They're so polite. Do you think Otabek would trade?  
_

_Not even if you threw in your nanny.  
_

_They'd probably start acting like brats as soon as they got used to us anyway. Good luck.  
_

_Thanks._ He didn't need luck, anyway. He had this, and he'd known it since he got on the ice for his short.

There was a knock on the door, and Yakov and Yuri frowned at each other. No one bothered them on a performance day, unless it was one of Yakov's skaters, and they all had key cards.

Yuri opened the door to Victor, looking worried. "Yurio," he said. "Are Kasym and Varida still with Phichit?"

Yuri nodded.

"You haven't seen—" He held out his phone.

Shit. Oh _shit._

"Vitya, I don't know what you're—" Yakov said, and Yuri didn't know what the fuck look he or Victor had on their faces, but it was enough that he fell silent.

"I'm sorry," Victor said, as Yuri scrolled through Katsudon's texts. "No one seems to have connected you with it, but—"

The bottom had dropped out of the world.

"Sit," Yakov said, grabbing Yuri's arm, and for his age, the man could _grip._ "Both of you. And tell me what's going on."

"Nurdaulet," Yuri gritted, from between his teeth. "He just...showed up, I guess?"

"You were gone by then?" Yakov asked.

Yuri nodded, dazed.  
"I don't understand why they would have fought," Victor said.

"Probably because the kids are at Phichit's, and that asshole will take any chance to try to tell Beks he's a shitty father," Yuri said. "And then someone called the cops."

"I'm not bailing your boyfriend out of jail," Yakov said. "You have to skate."

"They're still talking," Victor said. "Unless Yuuri's sent another text. Can I have my phone back?"

Yuri thrust it back at him. "Where the fuck is—"

"You have to skate," Yakov said. "The children are with Phichit. They won't even know any of this happened. You'll only upset them if you go there now. Victor."

"Yes?"

"Yuuri's...what, spying in the hallway?"

Victor shrugged.

"Go take his place. Send him to talk to Phichit, they're friends and no one will ask questions."

"Right," Victor said.

"You need to have breakfast," he told Yuri. "We need to act like this is a normal day."

"I—" _Are you fucking kidding me?_ "Fucking how?"

"I don't care how," Yakov said. "Those children will be watching you. They will be watching you skate, and they will be watching you at the podium, and if you go running to Phichit’s room, they will wonder what's wrong. If you show any sign of this, they will wonder what's wrong. Children are perceptive. You know that as well as I do."

Well, fuck. Yakov was completely fucking right.

"I'll tell you if anything happens," Victor said. "I promise."

Then he was out the door, and Yuri was on the bed staring at his hands and wondering how the fuck he was supposed to act normal for the next five hours.

"Your warm-up is in almost an hour," Yakov said. "You need to focus. Think about today. Otabek is old enough to take care of himself. You trust him, don't you?"

"Yes."  
"Then—"  
"I don't know how the fuck I'm supposed to—"  
"Yuri Nikolaevich Plisetsky," Yakov said, and he was very serious and pulled up to his full height, and you couldn't fucking argue with Yakov when he got like that without wasting your breath. "You cannot control this. What you can control is your skating. Do you understand?"

 _That is bullshit,_ Yuri thought, but he knew it wouldn't change anything if he said it.

"Get some breakfast. I don't want you wasting your ice time."

"Fine," he said. He knew Yakov had skated through everything, hadn't even had the fucking choice. Complaints weren't going to get him anywhere.

 _Police are gone,_ Victor had sent. _They didn't take anyone with them. I can't pretend to be out here much longer. Want to meet for breakfast downstairs?_

_Is there any shit I can eat?  
_

_I think so._

Fuck. Okay. _Fine._ "I'm gonna eat with Victor," he said.

"Don't miss your ice time," Yakov said, because of course that was what Yakov would fucking say.

  
He sent Otabek a text, after erasing and rewriting it half a dozen times in the elevator. _Let me know what I can do._

No answer. He went down to the shitty hotel restaurant and had overpriced eggs and fruit with Victor. Victor nattered on about Yuuri and Phichit and whatever seemed to have come into his mind. Yuri knew it was just to distract him, but he let it work.

Leo sent him a what-the-fuck-happened text and he said _I don't even fucking know.  
_

_I thought he was on a book tour.  
_

_It got cancelled I guess? And then I don't know what.  
_

_There's a video up on the forums, but it's mostly yelling. I think it's Kazakh, but it's a bad recording and I'm not sure._

"Yurio?"

"There's a video," he told Victor.

"Yurio," Victor repeated, harder. "Put down the phone."

Yurio opened his mouth, but Victor kept going.

"I don't know what's going on, and I don't know if we can do anything about it. But what I do know is that if you start acting any differently, the two of you won't be hiding anything at all."

"I'm not acting any differently," Yuri snapped.

  
"Can you tell me you won't, if you watch the video?"

"I'm not a _child,_ and—"

"No," Victor said, flat. "You're not. A child would insist on watching that video, consequences be damned. Wouldn't he?"

"Could you do it? If it was Katsudon?"

"I don't know," Victor said, after a second. "But you and everyone else I know have always told me I'm too impulsive. 'I can't believe you're thinking with your dick like this,' I think you told me once."

"I'm not thinking with my dick."

"You're not thinking," Victor said. "You're scared. And you're angry. And you should be. But—"

A rumble like a dozen elephants, and there were Phichit's kids, the advance guard before Phichit and Katsudon. "Yurio!" Sombat squeaked, and one of these days he was going to _murder_ the pig for teaching them that. "Vicchan!"

Victor smiled down at them. "Good morning. Did you have fun last night?"

The boy nodded.

"Well, good."

Yuuri put his hand on Yuri's shoulder, in a way that would have looked casual to anyone watching. "Otabek came with Nurdaulet and picked up Kasym and Varida this morning."

"Oh," he said.

"The kids wanted to hang out together all morning, of course, but I guess they were going to get breakfast together. So we figured we'd come down here and see you," Phichit said.

Yuuri squeezed Yuri's shoulder before moving to a seat. "When's your ice time?"

"Too fucking soon, and Yakov's gonna give me hell if I miss it."

"Yep," Yuuri agreed, smiling. Yuri could see the tension in his eyes, behind his glasses. Fuck. They were all playing this stupid fucking game like nothing was wrong now, weren't they? Yuri wanted to scream.

He knew the old man had been right, though. Play cool. Pretend nothing was going on. Don't give Nurdaulet a fucking inch.

Fuck, he _hated_ him.

Warmups were a mess, and Yuri knew the skating press would be all over it but he didn't fucking care. All that mattered was what happened during the FS. Yakov yelled at him for a while, and he pretended not to listen, and for a while things felt kind of normal.

Otabek caught up with him when he was coming out of the locker room. Yuri just fucking threw his arms around him and squeezed.

"We're okay," Otabek said. "They're with Nurdaulet. They're going to the aquarium. They don't even realize anything happened. At least he...he’d calmed down by the time we picked them up."

Yuri held him. "Shit, I was scared—"

"I know. I should've texted—"

"It's okay," he said. "What happened?"

"He wanted to know where our children were," he said. "I told him. He wasn't happy with the answer."

Otabek must have felt Yuri tense at that, because he started stroking Yuri's back.

"You can't kill the father of my children," he said.

"Fucking try me," Yuri grumbled, but he let Otabek hold him for a minute longer. They were so close in height now.

"I know you can't stay in here, and I can't either," Otabek said. "I wanted to see you. We're all right. When things had...calmed down, I reminded him that I'm supposed to be trying out an au pair on this trip, which means actually having her work with them. And then we had a long talk."

"And that went...he was okay with that?"

"No one called the cops again?"

Yuri pressed his lips to the side of Otabek's head. "What do you need from me?"

"Just skate," he said. "Win."

"I will," he said.

But he couldn't put the tension aside, it was there in his back, stiff and angry. He kept telling himself that Otabek was all right, that he'd seen Varida and Kasym waving happily from the stands. They were fine. As far as they knew, nothing had happened at all. They were there to see him skate. To see him win.

He felt older than ever watching the skaters this time. They jumped faster and higher and added rotations, and it was infuriating, but none of them got close, not until Leo.

The worst thing about Leo was that he wasn't just friendly and kind, he was a _really fucking good skater._ There weren't many performers as consistently beautiful as he'd become—especially not with Otabek and Yuuri retired—and he'd added another fucking quad when he was pushing thirty. Yuri hadn't expected him to become serious competition when they'd first met, but when he finished his free he was at the top of the stands and well within breathing distance of Yuri.

Fuck.

Zhao had come in third after the short, but his free skate wasn't as lyrical, and he two-footed the landing on his final quad. He'd fallen to fifth when the scores came in.

 _Just skate,_ Yuri said to himself. _Just win. Lose yourself like you always do._

The music started, and he was present, in his body, there, until the change to the second song. The crossover at the transition was weak, he knew it the second he started, but there was no turning back. He worked to feel the music, live it, and he pulled together for the next combination, clean, perfect. But his focus had weakened. It was going to be a fight for every point, and he felt like he was a teenager again, trying to cram the elements in without time to think of power or artistry.

By the time he finished, he was just trying to calculate it all in his head. It was going to be close. A lot closer than he'd wanted it to be. _It should be enough. Let it be enough._

Yakov held his arm in the kiss and cry, and they waited together for the scores to come in. A full point behind Leo’s FS, but that meant Yuri was still ahead by six tenths of a point.

Yakov hugged him first, screaming in his ear, and then he saw Otabek over Yakov's shoulder; somehow he'd made his way dow. Yuri hugged him back, crying, and it shouldn't feel this good every time but it sure fucking did.

Otabek looked at him, stone-faced, and then grabbed him so tightly Yuri thought his ribs might bruise. For a half-second, Yuri worried about Nurdaulet, and then he felt Varida grab onto his leg and Kasym cramming in next to his sister, and he didn't fucking care. He let them hold him, and he just kept fucking crying.

It took a while. It always did. Interviews, the podium, a handshake with Leo that turned into a bear hug.

He wasn’t the last out of the locker room, but it was close. "Yura," Yakov said. "Walk with me."

He took Yakov's bag over his shoulder, automatically, and followed him back to the hotel room.

Yakov grumbled at him like it was a normal competition, and Yuri was grateful for it. "Next season," he said, as Yuri held the door for him, "Russia should have gold and silver." He fixed Yuri with his glare. "Will you be in St. Petersburg? Or am I going to have to coach you through a tiny screen?"

Yakov always got straight to the point. "I don't know," Yuri said. "They can't come up to St. Petersburg. So it's go down there, or wait. And we...we haven't talked that through yet."

"All right," Yakov said. "You will tell me."

"I will," Yuri said.

"Good." He gestured for Yuri to put his bag down. "Don't stay up too late. You'll still have to skate the exhibition tomorrow."

"I know," he said.

He put an arm around Yuri and gave him that awkward half-hug he had sometimes, when he wanted to be affectionate but still had to act tough. "I am very proud of you."

Yuri hugged him. "Thanks."

"Someday," he said. "Those children will know. You understand? If you are all lucky, they will never know what happened this weekend. But they will know who you have been. Who you are."

"Oh," he said.

"You are going to be a good father," Yakov said. He let go. "Now go see them."

"You could come," he offered.

"Another night. I have to take care of Lena tonight. She is upset about her short, and I have to get her to focus for her free skate."

"We know, too," Yuri said. "All of us. What you've done for us."

"Don't get sentimental," Yakov grumbled.

Otabek was alone with the kids in his room, which was a relief. The kids hugged him before Otabek got there, and he felt like he'd done a shitty job of pretending nothing was wrong from the way they clung to his legs. "Hey," he said.

"We got you a special plushy at the aquarium!"

"Did you get it?"

"Did you like it?"

"Yeah, I did," he said. "Thank you." He'd have to remember to thank Otabek later for giving him a heads-up about the merkitty they'd thrown on the ice. He had to give the damn thing a name, too. "Did you have a good time?"

Nods from both of them, that was good.

"Nurdaulet's coming back in an hour or two," Otabek said. "He had a meeting with his agent."

He couldn't plan on having any more than an hour, then. "Grandpa wants to talk to you," he said to Kasym and Varida. "Do you want to call him with me?"

They did, and he let them talk with Grandpa themselves for a little while, after Grandpa had finished congratulating him. Otabek pulled him back from the screen, into his arms, and that was good, good enough to make the aches and the pressure and the tension he still hadn't shaken worth it.

"We should talk," Otabek said, against his shoulder.

"I know," Yuri said. Talk meant change, again, but he felt like this time, change might be good. This time he might get closer to what they wanted. What he hoped they both wanted, anyway.

"All right," Otabek said, "Yuri's grandfather has other things to do. Go ahead and say goodbye. We'll talk to him again soon."

They chorused "Goodbye, Yuri's grandpa," and Yuri took the phone to say goodbye himself.

Grandpa winked at him. "I'm proud of you," he said.

"Wait until you see me skate next year."

"I will always be proud of you," he said.

"I'm going to hang out with Leo and Guang-Hong for a while," he said, after he'd hung up. "I don't know what you guys had planned."

“Dad’s gonna to take us to see the ducklings," Kasym said, without the usual _maybe you can come with us._ Yuri thought about what Yakov had said about kids picking up on things.

"You think they'd mind if I came with you guys?" Otabek said, carefully, and it took a second to realize that he'd meant with Yuri.

"You don't have to ask," Yuri said, and Otabek's lips shifted just enough to be a smile. "You want to meet us?"

"Sure, just let me know where," Otabek said.

They hugged him—they all hugged him—and Otabek pressed a tiny, soft kiss to his cheek. "Later," Yuri said, trying to make it feel casual.

He had half-a-dozen texts from Victor, but the good thing about telling Victor that everything seemed fine meant that Katsudon and Phichit would also know that everything seemed fine, and the gossip would spread out from there. He sent Leo a text, though. _Beks is coming with us.  
_

_Really? Awesome!_

They set up a time to meet in the lobby. Yuri sat on one of the couches, his feet up, and tried to look unapproachable, but half a dozen Angels hit him up for autographs anyway. He was signing one for a Swiss girl named Charlotte when she looked over his shoulder and her eyes went wide. He was ready for fucking anything, but the Angel he'd just signed for—Haley, from Canada—said, "Mr. Altin...could I have an autograph from you, too?"

"Sure," Beks told them, and a couple of the stray Angels ran over to him. Luckily, he'd been at the end of the line anyway. Haley and Charlotte looked between them both, and they were probably doing some mental math, but Yuri was too happy to give a shit.

"Leo said they're running late," he said, when the Angels had finally moved on. He sat down, close enough to touch, and Yuri ached for a second. "Named your merkitty yet?"

"I might be an asshole and call her the Sugarplum Fairy." He leaned into Otabek, just a little. "Your head okay?"

"Yeah. If I get a migraine it'll probably be tomorrow."

"That doesn't make me feel better."

"I'll make someone watch the kids. You and Leo can take turns. Sofia's great. We'll be fine."

Shit, it was good to hear Otabek be confident again.

"I might be okay anyway. I hope so. I want to watch everyone skate." He took Yuri's hand. "I know I said we should talk."

"Yeah," Yuri said, and his heart pounded. "This...this is okay?"

"That's what I wanted to say. I'm not hiding you," Otabek said. "I was so tired of fighting I forgot that some fights are worth having. But I remembered."

"Beks, I can wait."

"It's not about what you can do. It's not fair to Kasym and Varida to hide this. It's not fair to _me._ And being careful...doesn't really matter anyway."

"I know you didn't want them to—"

"I wanted to go slow," Otabek said. "But...I love you. They love you. And you're not going anywhere."

"I'm not," Yuri said. "You can't fucking get rid of me now." He tried to say it like a joke, but it sounded rawer than that.

"I know you're not ready to retire. If you need to stay in St. Petersburg, that's—that's not what this is about. All right? You need to do what's right for your career. But I want to be honest. With them, and with myself. And with you."

"Okay," Yuri said. It felt like a lot, but it also felt...natural, maybe. Like this was what they were supposed to be talking about. Like this was where they were supposed to be. "I can talk to Yakov about staying in Almaty for the summer. He can yell at me through Zoom, he's done that for years anyway."

"I put a deposit on the apartment," Otabek said. "I told the kids we needed more room, and they could have a cat. Nurdaulet doesn't know yet, but it's next door. He can't complain too much about that. I can't live like this. I'm not going to any more. We're divorced. If he wants to try to drag us back into court again, he can try it. I know what I've done. I know what he's done." He shook his head. "We're going to live, Yuri. And I'm not hiding anything."

Leo and Guang-Hong caught up with them on the couch, still holding hands like a pair of idiots. But Leo and Guang-Hong were, too.

"Hey," Leo said. "Sorry we're late. We were—"

Guang-Hong just stuck out his hand so they could see the ring.

"Holy shit, you got engaged?"

Guang-Hong shook his head 'no.' "I'm retiring after his season. And moving out to Colorado."

No fucking way. "You got fucking _married?"_

Everyone shushed him, but Guang-Hong was absolutely beaming.

"Congratulations," Otabek said. "We should celebrate, shouldn't we?"

"Come on," Leo said. "We're treating."

"Do your parents know?" Otabek asked.

"My moms are here, and Guang-Hong's dad made it," Leo said. "And Sofia was here, of course. We're going to have a reception in Beijing and back home, too. That's going to be the real wedding. We just...we didn't want to wait any longer."

Guang-Hong looked over at him, and it was enough to make someone sick.

Otabek put a hand on Yuri's waist. "Well," he said. "Where are we going?"

Leo and Guang-Hong had gone to the trouble of booking reservations, at a small place with dim lighting where the odds of getting recognized were pretty low. Otabek checked his phone to check on the kids a couple of times, but everything stayed calm. They talked a little about next season—Guang-Hong was retiring, but Leo was ready to roll the dice again, and Yuri couldn’t blame him—and a little about what Guang-Hong was planning to do in the States. There were a few tours that were reaching out to him already, and he was leaning toward Stars On Ice. They were disgustingly happy together.

Otabek kept touching his knee under the table, taking his hand. It didn't seem real, even in the relative privacy of a booth. The food was pretty decent, and with the season over, he could splurge a little. Guang-Hong made a big show of ordering whatever the fuck he wanted, but Yuri one-upped him by ordering the creme caramel for dessert and licking the whipped cream off his spoon. Mmm, delicious lactose.

He played himself a little, though, because he caught Beks staring out of the corner of his eye and almost choked.

They walked back together from the restaurant, taking their time, not ready to go to the hotel yet but not quite ambitious enough to go anywhere else.

"You're here through the exhibition skate, right, Beka?"

"I'm supposed to be networking," he told Leo, "so I'm here through the banquet. I'm hoping that your sister will be willing to chase after the kids so I can talk. Though if your parents are staying—"

Leo shook his head. "They have a red eye, they're leaving right after the exhibition. I'm sure Sofia won't mind. She's excited about coming to Almaty. And the money." He lifted his wineglass. "Okay, mostly the money, but she likes kids too."

"Hey, she's your sister-in-law now," Yuri said to Guang-Hong, and watched Guang-Hong grin. Fuck, he was getting soft. But it was kind of cool that they'd gotten married. Just done it. Of course they hadn't had any ex-husbands or kids to worry about. "How long does she want to do the au pair thing, anyway?"

"At least a year," Leo said. "She's going to apply to grad school next winter, see where she gets in and how much money they offer her. She's going to work on her portfolio, too."

"Portfolio?"

"She's a painter," Otabek said. "Mom's going to let her use her studio so she can work without two small children begging for her attention."

"Good plan."

Guang-Hong, meanwhile, had pulled out his phone so Yuri could see one of her paintings. "Dad has this one at home," he said.

It was big and abstract, and didn't look like it was trying too hard to be postmodern. The colors were bright and vibrant. It reminded Yuri of a sunset. "Nice," he said.

"Depending on how things go, you'll be seeing a lot of each other," Otabek said. Fuck, he was right. Good thing Yuri didn't think her art was shit.

"You think you guys'll get married?"

Yuri shrugged. "I don't know. Probably depends on the kids. I'm not sure we need it."

"It might be nice," Otabek said, in that way that meant he'd been thinking about it and didn't want to say that he'd been thinking about it. Yuri pretty much knew that one by heart. So maybe they'd get married. That would be okay. Yuri wouldn't mind being the second husband. The stepdad. Fuck.

Fuck, this was _real._

"You okay?" Otabek asked, and his hand was on Yuri's back, and Yuri's head was spinning a little.

"Yeah," he said. "Just...fuck." He turned his attention back to Leo and Guang-Hong. "I can't believe you two got married. And then you went out with us?"

"We're not going public yet, anyway. Mom and Dad are still trying to pretend that everything's normal and Sofia won't be in Kazakhstan next year. And Guang-Hong’s father won't believe it's real until we have a Chinese ceremony." Leo shrugged. "It's not like we're kids."

"No," Yuri said. "I guess not."

"You think you can come?" Leo asked Otabek. "If you came out to Colorado Springs, I know everybody at the rink would be happy to see you, meet the kids. I show them pictures all the time."

"I'm surprised they still remember me."

Leo rolled his eyes. "Like you didn't break half the hearts there. Sofia's best friend cried for a week when you left." He feigned sniffling. "’I'm happy for him, of course I am, I just _miss him so much—’"_

Guang-Hong giggled into his tea.

"Tell me more about this best friend," Yuri said.

'You're safe," Leo said. "She's in medical school. Vermont."

"Where's Vermont?"

"East coast," Otabek said. "She was a nice kid. Worked hard."

"Better off in med school than skating," Leo said, thoughtfully.

"Definitely."

Guang-Hong looked over at Yuri and shrugged. At least they were both out of the loop.

"Whole new country, huh?"

Guang-Hong nodded. "I've visited before, but it's going to be different. Leo's family has been great, and I know my family will visit. But it's not the same. There's another Chinese skater at the rink, though." He looked over at Leo. "It's going to be good. I know it will."

"I'm sorry I can't ask you up," Otabek said.

"It's okay," he said. "I can check and see if Yakov's still out."

"I should get back—" His hand was still lingering on Yuri's waist, though. "Maybe just..."

"Let me kiss you goodnight, at least."

"You can do that here," he said, but it was a challenge.

"Not the way I can in my room. Come on."

They were lucky and Yakov wan't back yet. Yuri hoped Lena wasn't too much of a wreck; Yakov would normally have ordered her in bed by now, and be back squinting at the day's performances. Otabek kissed him slow and familiar, gentle, and Yuri probably should've thought it was sappy, but it just felt nice.

"I'm coming to Almaty," he said, his fingers climbing up Otabek's back. "And we're going to make Sofia take the kids to the zoo for the day. And you're going to be _mine."_

"Like you wouldn't go to see the tigers," Otabek teased.

"We'd meet them at the end of the day," Yuri said. "At the tigers."

"Of course." Otabek nuzzled his neck, and fuck, they couldn't fool around—not with Yakov coming back any minute—but _fuck_ he wanted to. "I'd better get back so I'm there when—"

"I know," Yuri said, and let him go, though not without another handful of kisses. The merkitty was in the center of his bed, and he picked it up and hugged it. "Sugarplum Fairy doesn't seem quite right," he said. He'd seen Lilia dance it, and it wasn't really right for her, either. _Back then, you took the roles they gave you or you didn't dance,_ she'd said once.

He texted Lilia: _Did you ever dance any parts set in the ocean or anything?  
_

_What did the children give you this time?_

He sent her a picture.

_Are they well?  
_

_Yeah.  
_

_I am very proud of you._

_I_ _could have done better._

_I am proud of your skating, too._

Well shit, she didn't have to get sappy on him. _Thanks._

_I cannot think of any roles I performed where I portrayed any sea life. But I will think. I made you name the past two yourself, after all._

He didn't deserve Lilia. _Give Potya extra treats for me.  
_

_Potya already has enough treats. But I will tell him you miss him._

She never asked after Yakov. But Yuri had realized a long time ago he'd never really understand what happened between them. _Thanks,_ he said, because that covered most of it. He put his phone down and checked the time. It wasn't that late; it was just that the kids went to bed at eight.

Victor and Yuuri would be up.

Victor, in fact, was thinking through Otabek's program, as he'd decided he needed something completely different, for reasons that escaped Yuri.

"I think he's right, though," Yuuri said. "This is much better for him. Still dramatic and modern, of course."

"I think the one I was working on will work well for you this year," Victor said, and Yuuri almost choked on his beer.

"Him?" Yuri asked.

Victor nodded. "It's passionate, and I think—"

"It's to Queen," Yuuri said.

"So?" Victor and Yuri both asked.

Yuuri looked mildly panicked, not that that was anything new.

"I know you're retired from competition," Victor continued, "but you still need to keep challenging yourself, like I do. Otherwise it's boring."

 _That_ was rich. "When's the last time you challenged yourself, old man?"

Victor looked shocked.

"You haven't had anyone else choreograph for you in years," Yuuri said, thoughtfully. "You could take a shot at it, Yurio."

Yuri looked at him like he'd grown a second head.

Yuuri had the world's best poker face when he was sober. His eyes were big and brown and innocent, but Yuri remembered what they'd talked about earlier and he fucking knew better. "You've trained with VIctor and Lilia," he continued. "You have a very strong dance background. You've shared a rink with Victor for years. You know his strengths."

He wasn't _wrong._ But—

"And of course, his weaknesses," Yuuri continued thoughtfully.

A flash of annoyance crossed Victor's features, but the joy of novelty chased it away. "Your debut program," he said, and Yuri could hear him warming to the idea.

"We wouldn't even have to tell anyone you were doing it! No one would expect it. We could announce it at the ice show, let it go viral." He looked at Yuri. "It would be fun!"

"I guess," Yuri said. "Did you have music?"

Victor nodded. "But I couldn't decide—" He pulled out his phone. "I'll send it to you, you can listen."

"Okay," he said.

"This is such a good idea, Yuuri," Victor said, as he fiddled with the screen. "A whole different perspective on my skating!"

"I guess," Yuri said. But...it did sound like fun. He'd had a lot of ideas for ways Victor should be stretching himself through the years—

Fucking Katsudon. It was so annoying when he was right.

He went back to his room, hoping he'd actually be able to sleep, and there was Otabek, leaning casually against the door. "No one's back yet," he said.

 _Isn't it past their bedtime?_ leaped into Yuri's mind, but the look on Otabek's face shut him up before he could fuck things up by saying it. There was something in his eyes that made Yuri want to shiver all over.

"I've been careful," Otabek said, very deliberately. "For a very long time. Yuri, want to do something stupid with me?"

 _"Yes,"_ Yuri said.

The public bathroom near the fish tank had a locking door, and just enough room, Yuri's knee pushing Otabek's apart, his hands on Otabek's back, Otabek humming pleasure against Yuri's skin. "I'm going to miss you so fucking much," Yuri said, as Otabek's cock hit his thigh. "Every fucking day."

"Every _night,"_ Otabek muttered, and he was so _hungry._ Yuri wanted to be wanted like this forever.

"I can't believe how good you feel," Yuri said, and he wanted to make Otabek scream, even though it'd get them both arrested. Fuck, Otabek was hot. Pure muscle and hot breath, and everything he'd ever wanted.

Someone pounded at the door while they were cleaning up. "Just a fucking second," Yuri snapped in Russian.

Otabek kissed the side of his mouth and almost laughed.

No one caught them coming out together, which was probably a fucking miracle. Yuri took it. "Victor's got ideas for you," he said.

"Good ideas?"

Yuri shrugged. "Probably? He's a good choreographer. Pushes you. You want to be pushed?"

"I probably need to be," he said, a little reluctantly.

"And um. Katsudon had an idea."

"Yeah?"

"That I should try doing something for Victor. Kick his ass a little."

Otabek thought, very seriously, for all of a half-second before saying, "I think that's a great idea."

"Yeah?"  
He nodded. "You're the perfect person to do it. You know his strengths and weaknesses, and you're not afraid to challenge him."

Fuck, when Otabek talked like that..."You know I love you, right? You don't have to fucking flatter me."

"I have never needed to flatter you," he said. He checked his phone. "Kids are heading back. I'm going to—"

"Of course," he said. "Say hi, okay?"

Otabek leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I will."

The kids joined up with Phichit's again at the banquet, which meant that there was a loud, floating menace around that was mostly self-contained; the fear of going to bed early was enough to keep them from getting _too_ carried away. He and Otabek could float around the room with champagne glasses and look concerned every once in a while, and Phichit was mostly doing the same thing. Yuri had a few sponsors he had to pacify, and it was nice to catch up with Mila and Lena, who had managed a clean free skate and was feeling better. "You gonna retire after this, Baba?"

Mila shrugged. She'd won gold, and made it look easy, but Yuri knew how many struggles she'd had over the season. "Maybe," she said. "I don't want to stop."

"You won't stop anyway," he said. "You'll skate in Victor's show, he won't let you get away with anything else. And the crowds love you."

"Yeah, they do." She grinned and took a sip of champagne. "He looks happy."

 _He_ meant Otabek, who was talking with Victor, Yuuri and Phichit. "You think so?"

She laughed at him. "You're both ridiculous."

"Fuck you," he said, but there wasn't any heat in it.

"You going to Almaty?"

"I think so," he said, and every time he said it it felt more real. "Beks is getting a bigger apartment. They can have a cat."

 _"You_ can have a cat," she said, bumping against his shoulder.

"They love cats, shut up."

"It's cute," she said. "I'm glad, okay?"

"Good," he said. He'd miss her, as much as he hated to admit it. He'd miss everyone. Maybe if he went into Victor's stupid ice show when he retired he'd see everyone. Georgi's routines got more over the top every year, and it would be cool to have the kids watch a couple of them in person.

Otabek was laughing, happy. It was good to see him relaxed for a change.

"Oh," Mila said, tensing up, and Yuri didn't like the way she said it.

"What?"

"Don't turn," she said. "Just keep talking."

"Baba, if you don't—"

"Just keep talking," she said.

Yuuri had taken Otabek by the arm and was steering him toward a tray of champagne.

"Where are the kids?" she asked.

How she couldn't notice them, Yuri had no idea. "They're over by the buffet table stuffing their faces."

"Okay," she said.

  
"He's here?"

She nodded.

"What the fuck is he doing here?"

"His book signing must have ended early," she said.

"Do you guys all keep track of him?" His friends were a bunch of fucking stalkers.

"No," she said. "But Yuuri does."

"Victor's right about him holding grudges."

She nodded. "Oh, yeah."

"Where's Beks?"

"He's fine," Mila said. "Phichit's got him. They're talking about the kids, that'll keep him occupied."

"Yeah, it will," he said. "Are you going to move there?"

"I don't know," he said. "I need—there's a lot of shit I need to put in place."

"So yes," she said."You want me to say it now?"

"Sorry," she said. "I—we'll miss you. I know I give you a lot of shit, but..."

"I won't miss any of you assholes," he said. "Except my cat. Lilia maybe." He wanted to turn his head. "What's going on?"

"Everything's fine," she said. "Chris has him cornered."

"Seriously?"

She glanced over his shoulder again. "I...think he's treating him like a sponsor. Because he has a familiar face, right? And why else would he be there?"

Chris was retired by the time Nurdaulet was on the scene, so that was a plausible enough reason to harass him. Yuri wondered if Katsudon had tipped him off. Probably. The two of them had gotten up to all kinds of shit over the years. Every once in a while one of them would start talking and Yuri would learn about how they'd almost gotten arrested in Ibiza or some bullshit.

"Just keep talking," Mila said. "At some point, security's going to realize that he doesn't belong here. It'll be fine."

"Fuck, Baba—"

"Talk about something else," she said, her eyebrows raising. "Anything."

"Fuck, fine. What are you going to do for a program next season, anyway? You and Yakov have some bullshit planned, I know it."

"We sure do," she said, grinning. "Even if I retire, I want to try it. It's going to be really fun—"

Otabek walked by, kissing Yuri on the cheek as he went. He was so calm. Yuri felt his heart thump.

"Baba," Yuri said.

"I'm on it," she said, acting like he'd just told the world's greatest joke. "Oh, it's all going to be fine. Otabek's being nice...and...polite."

"How's the asshole?"

"An asshole, probably," she said. "But Chris kind of knocked him off his feet, I think. He was all set to make a scene and instead he got flirted with."

No one was ever prepared for a full Chris onslaught. "Okay," he said. "So--"

"No fireworks yet."

"You think he saw--"

"I hope he did," she said, and for a second he saw the genuine anger flashing over her face. "He doesn't own Otabek. Or those kids." She smiled again, like she'd underrotated a jump and was pretending it hadn't happened. "Tell me about your EX."

"Beks has this idea--basically to do a modern version of a folk song, but a children's song, like _La Bamba._ He thinks it'll 'reflect my maturity and growth as a skater,' and, you know, with the kids around..."

"That's cute," Mila said. "That's really sweet."

"Yeah, I guess he can get that band JJ recorded with to do a demo."

"They're still together?"

Yuri shrugged. "I guess? I told him he could do it as long as they promised not to let JJ sing on it."

She actually laughed then.

"What's going on?"

"They're fine," she said, "I think. The kids still haven't noticed him."

"Good."

"And...and Otabek's coming our way. So don't flip out."

"I'm fine," Yuri said. "Does he--"

"Hey," Otabek said, and slid his arm around Yuri's waist. "Do you want to dance?"

"No one's dancing."

"Katsuki's about a drink away from dancing," Otabek said. "Then we'll all be dancing. You could be ahead of the pack."

"Where's your ex?"

"Going back to his hotel."

"It's okay?"

Otabek nodded. "Yeah. It's okay. I think I was right. I needed to just stop...feeding it. Put my foot down. I don't think it's over, but--it's better."

"Okay," Yuri said. "I still don't want to dance yet."

"Maybe I'll get Kaysm to dance," Otabek said, thoughtfully. "He's a better dancer than you are, anyway."

"Just ask Yuuri," Mila said. "Cut out the middleman."

"I'll ask Kasym first," Otabek said, and kissed Yuri's cheek again before heading towards the children.

"Is he--"

"Don't move," Mila said, her face frozen, and Nurdaulet swept by. He wasn't _happy,_ that was for sure. But he left.

He and Mila exchanged glances. "Gone?"

"Gone," she confirmed. "That was--"

"That sucked."

"Yeah," she said. "It really sucked. You okay?"

He nodded.

She snagged a flute of champagne off a passing tray and pressed it into his hand. "It's going to be nice having him back."

"Yeah, it is," Yuri said. He hated champagne, but he took a sip anyway. Yep, still tasted disgusting.

"He dresses up nice," Mila said. "I'd forgotten."

"I don't believe you," Yuri said.

Otabek did look good, though. Yuri hadn't seen the suit he was wearing before. It was a simple cut and fitted him well, a contrast with the insanely loud vest he was wearing. It was a Kazakh pattern, bright scarlet with gold. He looked good in it. He looked good in everything, though.

He was dancing with Yuuri, as threatened, when Yuri finally made his way over. The dance floor was tiny, but that had never stopped Katsudon. He also looked insanely good, not that Yuri would admit it to anyone, but a little part of him considered just watching them dance for a while. Katsudon was still a hell of a good dancer, and Otabek was still...

Yuri was still crazy about him. Just like always.

In the end, Yuuri noticed him, hovering at the edge of the dance floor and thinking about cutting in. He paused, and Yuri saw him saying something to Otabek. Otabek turned toward Yuri. He lifted up his hand, gesturing Yuri closer.

Yuri walked onto the floor and took Otabek's hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end! I might put up an epilogue later, but I think Otabek and Yuuri are pretty happy where they are, for now. Thanks to everyone who's read along!

**Author's Note:**

> My Almaty geography is very bad; I did a lot of handwaving as a result and made up some business names. Apologies for any errors.
> 
> Title is from "I Guess That's Why They Call It the Blues," by Elton John. I was listening to [this cover](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DcOLhcz-tEQ) a lot when I was writing this.


End file.
